



































* 


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HOW TO HELP THE POOR. 

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BY 


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Mrs. JAMES T. FIELDS. 




HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY, 
New York: 11 East Seventeenth Street. 

(£be fitocrsibc prc&s, Cambri&oe. 

1883. 


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Copyright, 1883, 

By MRS. JAMES T. FIELDS. 
All rights reserved. 


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f “ Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, 
and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.” — St- 
Paul. 

“ The grand doctrine that every human being should 
have the means of self-culture, of progress in knowl¬ 
edge and virtue, of health, comfort, and happiness, of 
exercising the powers and affections of a man,— this 
is slowly taking its place as the highest social truth.” 
— William Ellery Channing. 

“No historic event is so important as the advent of 
a convictiop, of a new truth. These convictions of the 
human soul build up institutions, change the course of 
events, and alter the tendencies of human affairs; and 
among all convictions there are none so strong, perma¬ 
nent, and unconquerable as religious convictions.”— 
James Freeman Clarke. 


NOTE. 


This little manual does not propose to dea 
with public questions. It aims to give a few^ 
suggestions to visitors among the poor, and to 
lead all such visitors to attend the conferences 
which now are held weekly in almost every dis¬ 
trict of our large cities. 

In these meetings, they will reap advantage 
from the experience and knowledge of others 
who are endeavoring, like themselves, to lighten 
the burden of the unfortunate. Especially, we 
believe that such meetings will awaken a wider 
interest in the hearts of well-to-do people,— an 
interest strong enough to increase the number 
of visitors to the homes of the poor. 

Every page of this book is a prayer for more 
helpers, and aims to show that such labor is 
neither too difficult for us, nor one from which 
any household can feel itself altogether exempted. 


CONTENTS. 


I. Why Organization Began. 5 

II. How Organization Began,. 14 

III. What a District Conference is, and 

how to Create One,.26 

IV. What a Visitor may do for Children 

and Young Persons,.44 

V. Suggestions in Behalf of the Aged, . 66 

VI. Investigation,.78 

VII. Intemperance,.92 

VIII. Visitors and Visited,.107 





































































































































I. 


WHY ORGANIZATION BEGAN. 

“Give to him that asketh” is one of the 
most direct commands in the Christian Script¬ 
ure ; doubtless, in some form, the same com¬ 
mand may be found in every scripture since 
man began his race with man. 

The slow growth of moral civilization is 
only now beginning to unfold the true signifi¬ 
cance of this law, which is found to stand 
side by side with other laws belonging to it 
and explaining it. These bring us to consider 
the Example from whom we receive our doc¬ 
trine. We find him living the life of an 
utterly poor man, who could give neither 
silver nor gold, yet whose bounty was un¬ 
ceasing. He taught his followers to speak of 
themselves “ as poor, yet making many rich.” 

“Give to him that asketh,” therefore, should 
be the true motto for this revival in benevo¬ 
lent work which we call organized or associ¬ 
ated charity, whereby we learn to take hold 


6 How to Help the Poor. 

of each other’s hands, and, forming a break¬ 
water thus against the rising waves of pauper¬ 
ism, find ourselves strengthened into better 
ways for relieving suffering. 

Formerly, when the knight rode out from 
his castle, he scattered largess as he went, 
and the people bowed and worshipped the 
hand that shed down the golden rain; but, 
when the giver of the gold had passed, they 
crept into their wretched huts and lived little 
better than the beasts of the field. As civ¬ 
ilization advanced, and castles were de¬ 
stroyed, and men gathered into large cities, 
trade and commerce increased, and equal 
chances were given to equal strength. Then 
the idea of brotherhood among men began 
to develop. It had been prophesied in the 
holy places, but at last it was becoming a 
visible truth in the mind of humanity. Equal 
worth was seen to be allied to unequal 
strength, and the growth of love to man pro¬ 
duced fellowship and sympathy with suffering. 
The simplest and least thoughtful, or least 
spiritual, methods were first seized upon in 
the earlier times for the alleviation of poverty 
and its ills. Community of goods, gifts of 
gold, gifts of land, every temporal method 
was essayed, and all to no good end. Those 


7 


Why Organization Began. 

who had no gold before, seemed to have still 
less, and to be worse off than ever, after the 
gifts were exhausted. The larger the city, 
the more munificent its expenditure, the 
darker its poverty and its degradation. Even 
in these later times, when the idea of civiliza¬ 
tion has begun to creep “into the study of 
imagination,” a friend has related substan¬ 
tially as follows her experience during one 
day. 

With the early morning mail came a letter 
from-Association, asking for a gener¬ 

ous yearly subscription. The names of good 
men and women were on the list. She read 
that all cases were carefully visited who ap¬ 
plied for aid; therefore, she enclosed her con¬ 
tribution. By and by, we shall see how this 
money was used. 

Another letter was then opened from a 
woman in Lowell, who had heard this lady’s 
name, and wished “her advice and assist¬ 
ance.” The woman had a mortgage on her 
house, and she sent names of well-known per¬ 
sons in Lowell who would help her with cer¬ 
tain sums, if she could make up. the full 
amount elsewhere. The request seemed quite 
reasonable, because the woman should keep a 
roof over her head, if possible, having three 



8 


How to Help the Poor. 


children. On the whole, my friend decided 
to make up the deficit of about two hundred 
dollars. Later on in these pages, I propose 
to consider another method of disposing of 
such a case. 

A third letter was from a woman who 
wished to learn to play the harp, and desired 
to insure her life for that purpose. At this 
moment, a man called with a paper signed by 
the mayor and prominent merchants, stating 
that he fell down a hatchway a year ago, and 
had required help ever since. Here, also, 
money was given. I hope in these pages to 
return also to this case. 

Presently, Mrs. X. went out. She was one 
of the managers of a sewing-circle and a 
trustee of a Temporary Home, and, before 
returning in the afternoon, she performed her 
usual labors in both those positions. Going 
hurriedly along the street, she was accosted 
by a child who looked very cold, and who 
asked her for a cent. It was so little ! She 
gave him a bit of money, and so reached 
home, her day’s work done. 

By and by, we will follow this doing out 
into its detail,* giving a simple statement of 
what was effected by her generous expendi¬ 
ture of time and money. Mrs. X. herself 


9 


Why Organization Began . 

did not feel satisfied. She could not see that 
anything was accomplished. Apparently, to¬ 
morrow must be the same as to-day, bringing 
much weariness and little fruition. She re¬ 
membered, too late, that she had intended 
to buy on this day a certain picture. The 
artist needed to know that some one cared 
for his work, and her own children would be 
better and happier for having the beautiful 
scene before their eyes. 

The thought came back, also, that an even¬ 
ing-school for boys, which she had long hoped 
for (seeing how much care is needed in city 
life, for boys), was still far from being estab¬ 
lished. She saw more and more plainly that 
she was not yet working altogether in the 
right direction, since there seemed absolutely 
no harvest after all her labor. 

One day, Mrs. X. discovered from a book 
which fell into her hands that the subject 
weighing upon her mind—of how we may 
best use what we possess, both of time and 
money, in behalf of the unfortunate — was not 
a problem belonging to herself alone. It had 
already become a vital question first in Europe 
and later in America. 

She read of a city in Germany — in which 
country much good thought is developed — 


IO 


How to Help the Poor. 


which had been divided and subdivided into 
manageable sections and where the poor are 
all placed under the supervision of companies 
of visitors, men and women, who go to see 
the needy and advise with them, in order 
that educated and sympathetic interest may 
be brought to bear upon their condition. By 
this means, it was discovered that the poor 
and unhappy drop out of sight and lose their 
way in the world. Therefore, the effect of 
bringing friends to the friendless has proved 
almost miraculous, especially during the life 
of the good man who first tried this experi¬ 
ment at Elberfeld. ^The result was greatly 
successful in that place. His work brought 
the new life which springs from every living 
seed. Later, Dr. Chalmers achieved a large 
measure of success in Glasgow, introducing 
practically the same idea, though possibly it 
was also original with him. From that mo¬ 
ment, the movement was established in the 
world and can never die out of it. It be¬ 
seeches humanity to give. Day by day this 
cry is reiterated, Come and help us ! Give us 
of your time first, then, if you see fit, of your 
money. Give to him that asketh enough of 
your attention to find somebody or to pay 
somebody, if you cannot go yourself, to dis- 


Why Organization Began. n 

cover the real condition of the sufferers. 
There need be no beggars in our American 
cities. Labor is wanted everywhere, espe¬ 
cially educated labor; nowhere is the supply 
of the latter equal to the demand. But the 
education of public schools at present does not 
bring labor of the hands into sufficient promi¬ 
nence ; and it is a fact to be considered that 
governesses and teachers often earn smaller 
wages than professed cooks and dressmakers 
when the latter are skilful in their business. 

Meanwhile there is a large proportion of 
the people crying continually, “Give to us.” 
What they really need is a chance to learn 
how to work, and sufficient protection, in the 
mean time, from the evils of idleness, drunk¬ 
enness, and vice. 

Miss Octavia Hill writes: “I do believe 
that our almsgiving has been cruel in its kind¬ 
ness. It is for the sake of the people them¬ 
selves that I would see it decreased, yes, even 
put down altogether. I believe they would be 
richer as well as happier for it. For the sake 
of the energy of the poor, the loss of which 
is so fatal to them, for the sake of that inter¬ 
course with them — happy, friendly, human in¬ 
tercourse — which dependence renders impos¬ 
sible, seek to your utmost for better ways of 
‘ helping them.’ ” 


12 How to Help the Poor. 

This is why organization began with us. 
A cry was heard from men and women need¬ 
ing a chance in this new land and seeking to 
be rescued from their misfortunes. 

Dr. Joseph Tuckerman was one of the first 
men in Boston who brought to light the im¬ 
portant “difference between pauperism and 
poverty.” His life was passed in endeavor¬ 
ing to awaken our people to their duty, and 
to the necessity of wise and organized effort 
against pauperism. In this labor for the poor 
he says, “ We must identify ourselves with the 
transgressor, through that sympathy with which 
nothing short of a strong sense of our own sins 
can inspire us ”; and he adds, “ A few judi¬ 
cious and energetic minds, combined and re¬ 
solved to accomplish all they can and may for 
the suppression of pauperism and crime, could 
accumulate in this world a better treasure 
than all their wealth, let them be rich as they 
may; and in a few years might do more for 
the advancement of society than without these 
sendees would be accomplished in half a cen¬ 
tury. . .. Only by creating a feeling of relation¬ 
ship and connection between different classes 
of society . . . can we ever bring about any 
great and permanent melioration of the condi¬ 
tion of the poor, any great and permanent 


Why Organization Began. 13 

means for the prevention of pauperism and 
crime. 

“ ‘ Faith alone can interpret life; and the heart that 
aches and bleeds with the stigma 
Of pain alone bears the likeness of Christ, and can 
comprehend its dark enigma.’ ” 


II. 


HOW ORGANIZATION BEGAN. 

I 

“ How organization began ” signifies not 
only the need from which it sprang, but the 
form it assumed. The form in Boston is as 
follows: — 

First, the Registration Bureau. 

Second, the Board of Directors. 

Third, the District Offices. 

Fourth, the Agents. 

Fifth, and chief in importance, the Volun¬ 
teer Visitors. 

The Registration Bureau is like a room in 
a large public library, with the private history 
of individuals, instead of books, carefully ar¬ 
ranged on cards which are kept strictly from 
the public eye; with its library upon the 
various branches of this wide subject of how 
best to help the unfortunate, its tables where 
gentlemen and ladies may consult together, 
and, more important than all, its Registrar, 
ready to give intelligent information to those 
* who apply. 


How Organization Began . 15 

The story of the birth and growth of the 
Registration or Central Office is worthy of 
record. It is now a basis on which intelligent 
assistance for the unfortunate can plant itself 
with hope of success, so soon as society un¬ 
derstands its value. When the public begins 
to serve the poor by first inquiring what is 
known about them at this office, and when 
newspapers cease to print appeals for indi¬ 
vidual needs until the same thing has been 
done, the true value of the office will be un¬ 
derstood ; but, while money is wasted on 
private applicants in whose behalf there is 
already a large public appropriation, it is not 
possible to obtain a sufficiently generous sum 
yearly to foster the best and largest growth of 
registration. 

“The Registration Bureau may be called 
a clearing-house of information. All reports 
of relief are kept on cards alphabetically 
arranged, and there are on file now more 
than twenty thousand. There is no publicity 
about this work, and the cards are strictly 
limited in their use to the detection of impost¬ 
ure or the aid of a family.” 

Speaking of the important question of 
church co-operation, Robert Treat Paine, Jr., 
one of the founders of united service for the 


16 How to Help the Poor. 

poor in America, and under whose fostering 
care it has grown to its present value in 
Boston, writes: — 

We ask the churches to register all the relief they 
give; and some of them are ready to do so, and believe 
it is wise, especially when they find that these facts are 
kept private. But many of the churches decline, owing 
to the sacred relation existing between themselves and 
their own poor. In these cases, we ask them to send 
their workers to consult the registration in our office; 
and this they are usually ready to do. The result is a 
benefit to us as well as to them. It is an advantage for 
them to know from what other sources their poor are 
drawing relief, and, conversely, it is our interest to 
know that that church is also aiding such a family. 

Upon this subject, w r e read in the excellent 
Hand-book for Friendly Visitors among the Poor 
of New York: — 

It should be remembered that all religious bodies 
recognize their obligations to provide for the poor 
of their own parishes, and often possess the most 
intimate and intelligent knowledge of an applicant’s 
circumstances. 

Therefore, great care should be taken not to interfere 
with their treatment of any case belonging to them; 
and, to avoid the possibility of this, every one who 
belongs or pretends to belong to any congregation 
should invariably be referred to it. 

All Hebrews should be referred to the Society of 
the United Hebrew Charities, which society dispenses 
all synagogical charity. All baptized Roman Catholics 




s 


How Organization Began . 17 

are members of the parish within whose limits they 
reside, and should be sent to their priest or to the 
President of the Conference of St. Vincent de Paul 
in that parish. All Protestants should come strictly 
under the same rule, and be dealt with only through 
consultation with the relief authorities of the parish 
to which they are fairly affiliated. 

The management of the organization in 
Boston is vested in a board of twenty-two 
directors, ladies and gentlemen, who meet 
always once a month, and more frequently in 
emergencies. In this number are included 
the Chairman of the Overseers of the Poor, 
the President of the Boston Provident Asso¬ 
ciation, the President of the Society of St. 
Vincent de Paul and of the Roxbury Chari¬ 
table Society. The other members are per¬ 
sons chosen because they are known to have 
done or tried to do some practical labor for 
the poor, as well as because of their intelli¬ 
gent interest in the subject. 

The district office may be called the home 
of the agent. Here duplicate registration 
cards of reference are kept respecting the 
poor of the district; here information may be 
found about persons needing employment, es¬ 
pecially that of men and children who can 
work only a part of the time, and therefore 
cannot be advertised or sent to an intelligence 


I 


18 How to Help the Poor. 

office. These offices are arms, as it were, 
of the Industrial Aid Society, which may be 
called a kind of central bureau for employ¬ 
ment of this nature. Here the volunteer visit¬ 
ors may find the agent any day, or meet each 
other at the regular meetings called confer¬ 
ences, which occur weekly. 

The agent becomes a connecting link for 
the volunteer visitors who come daily for 
advice and assistance. When a family is in 
distress of any kind, there need be no delay 
in getting relief, because the agent is always 
ready to consult with the committee, if neces¬ 
sary, or is able by constant experience to 
know how and what to do immediately. 

The struggle of the volunteer visitors under 
the various district committees has been a 
brave one, and the exhortation “to give to 
him that asketh” is at length bearing fruit; 
but it is slow fruition, because there must be 
growth; and, if such work is to be really 
useful, the service of many persons must be 
accepted whose work is necessarily intermit¬ 
tent. “ This must be done in order that we 
may secure a sufficient number of workers, 
and not waste, but gather in and use, all the 
overflowing sympathy which is such a blessing 
to giver and receiver. With our volunteers, 



How Organization Began. 


*9 


home-claims must and should come first; and 
it is precisely those whose claims are deepest 
and whose family life is the noblest who have 
the most precious influence in the homes of 
the poor. But, if the work is to be valuable, 
we must find some way to bind together those 
broken scraps of time, and thus give it con¬ 
tinuity in spite of changes and breaks.” 

This we believe we have done in establish¬ 
ing agents in every district who are assisted 
each by a committee of men and women. 
Certainly agents and committees are yet very 
far from understanding the full scope of their 
work, but knowledge is increasing every day, 
and the reform is moving on because the 
foundations are sound. 

One great difficulty in advancing any public 
work of such unobtrusive character is that of 
finding a sufficient number of unselfish per¬ 
sons who will take hold of it. “ I believe that 
educated people would come forward, if once 
they saw how they could be really useful and 
without neglecting nearer claims. Let us re¬ 
flect that hundreds of workers are wanted; 
that, if they are to preserve their vigor, they 
must not be overworked; and that each of us 
that might help and holds back not only 
leaves work undone, but injures to a certain 


20 


How to Help the Poor . 


extent the work of others. Let each of us 
not attempt too much, but take some one 
little bit of work and, doing it simply, thor¬ 
oughly, and lovingly, wait patiently for the 
gradual spread of good.” In our present 
method of helping the poor by associated and 
organized labor, it is found that a little time 
will go a great way. Two hours a week 
on an average, the year through, is all the 
time that need be given by a visitor who is 
busied with other duties and yet wishes to do 
something to help the unfortunate. Within 
this brief space of time, more good can be 
achieved than is easy to describe ; and who 
cannot save two hours for such a work? I 
know many persons give more time because 
it is theirs to bestow, and because their inter¬ 
est grows and thrusts aside other things; but 
this is no reason why others should withhold 
the mite they possess. 

The lack of organization in behalf of the 
unfortunate was deeply felt in Boston, and the 
work has been ardently started. Its present 
value and its future existence depend en¬ 
tirely upon the way in which the well-to-do 
people accept their yoke of service. 

“The burden is light,” but it is indeed a 
burden, and one not to be undertaken in any 


How Organization Began. 21 

frivolous spirit. It is distinctly the work 
pointed out to us by the Founder of our 
religion; and, in so far as he is loved and 
believed in among us, his service will not be 
forgotten. 

One of the important results of this sym¬ 
pathetic inquiry into the true wants of the 
poor has led to new views respecting what is 
called “out-door relief,”—that is, the giving 
of money (or its equivalent) which is raised by 
taxing the people, if the applicants come under 
certain rules and laws. 

Mr. Seth Low, of Brooklyn, N.Y., has said 
upon this subject: — 

Is it not worth while, in these days of prosperity, for 
communities large and small, all over the country, to 
try the experiment of abolishing public out-door relief? 
Private benevolence seems preferable to public relief, 
because it is almost always inspired by a higher motive, 
and therefore more apt to consider the good of the 
receiver, because it contains within itself the limits to 
which it can be carried, and because such relief is less 
readily sought after by the recipients. 

A remarkable illustration of variation in out-door 
relief in our Western States is seen in Centre Town¬ 
ship, Indiana, in which is the city of Indianapolis. In 
1875 and 1876, the township trustee distributed nearly 
$90,000 a year. Since that time, a new trustee has 
found $8,000 a year to be sufficient. It seems hardly 
doubtful to a stranger that the private benevolence of 


22 


How to Help the Poor. 


k 


Centre Township could cope successfully with all the 
real need without the latter small sum. . . . The subject 
of out-door relief is too vast in its extent and too in¬ 
tricate in its relations to be treated dogmatically by any 
one. This present contribution to the theme is sub¬ 
mitted in the spirit of one open still to learn from 
those who differ as from those who may agree with its 
conclusions. 

These are, briefly: — 

That out-door relief, in the United States, as 
elsewhere, tends inevitably and surely to increase 
pauperism; 

That in towns and cities it is not needed; 

That even in villages it can probably be dispensed 
with. 

In thinly settled sections, its evils are at the lowest 
ebb, while its benefits at the same time are greatest. 
If coupled with the condition of work in return for 
relief, which in the country ought to be easy of accom¬ 
plishment, out-door relief in the country would prob¬ 
ably be free from serious objection. On the same 
basis, it is relieved from its chief harmfulness every¬ 
where. ... In some States or sections of States, the 
office of overseer of the poor is at the bottom of the 
political ladder. The overseers are chosen for short 
terms, and are expected to serve party or personal 
ends. It is needless to say that, in the hands of such 
officers, out-door relief is an instrument full of danger 
to the common weal. Long terms of office may help to 
modify the evil, but there is no effectual remedy while 
the administration of the poor funds is controlled in the 
interest of politics. Where this is known to be the 
case in any city or town or hamlet, for the sake of 


How Organization Began. 23 

the poor, for the sake of the locality, for the sake of 
the country, let civil service reform begin there. 

The foregoing consideration of the form 
of organized work for the poor brings us 
back to Mrs. X. and to the conditions which 
made it a necessity. 

A poor woman came to her door one day 
asking help. Remembering her many dis¬ 
satisfactions and disappointments in trying 
to benefit others, Mrs. X. simply took the 
woman’s address and told her kindly that she 
would inquire further into her condition. She 
went as soon as possible to the office of one 
of our oldest and largest societies, only to find 
the name as a recipient among eight hundred 
others who had been referred to one visitor. 
This “ case ” was credited with quarter of a 
ton of coal and shoes for a woman and two 
children, without further comment. 

Mrs. X. discovered that volunteer visiting 
had gone out of fashion, and that the expert, 
with his four or eight hundred families to 
visit during the year, could not be expected 
to grapple with any details. The “ system,” 
good enough in itself, had drifted utterly away 
from its early purpose, and had almost lost 
sight of Dr. Chalmers’ wonderful work, which 
had been the inspiration of its founders. 


24 


How to Help the Poor. 


Mrs. X. then went to another society. This 
one was less catholic in its grasp, and con¬ 
cerned only respectable widows. She found 
her applicant was known here also, and re¬ 
ceived her rent regularly from this benevolent 
fountain-head. She went into the rooms of a 
sewing-circle adjoining, and found her friend 
already there, returning last week’s sewing 
and receiving more. On her way home, 
Mrs. X. met a friend, and was relating her 
morning’s occupation, when the lady replied 
that she had known this woman, who was a 
widow, for many years. She was surprised 
to know of her call at Mrs. X.’s door, because 
she had made the woman understand that she 
herself always stood ready to give her what 
she required. She was an excellent person, 
and she would ask her about it. 

On parting from her friend, Mrs. X. deter¬ 
mined to visit the woman. Turning into a 
court, she rapped at a side door of a com¬ 
fortable tenement. It was twelve o’clock. A 
man with shirt-sleeves rolled up, just in from 
his morning’s work, was sitting down before 
a dirty table, on which was a huge slice of 
fried beefsteak and some potatoes. Two un¬ 
combed children were playing about the floor, 
and a general air of dirt and disorder pre- 


How Organization Began. 25 

vailed. Excellent health pervaded the place. 
The woman was somewhat abashed and dis¬ 
comfited by this speedy return of her visit; 
but, after a brief explanation from Mrs. X. 
that she wished to understand her needs more 
clearly, she came away. Something, surely, 
needed to be done; but what was the some¬ 
thing? One visitor with hundreds of cases 
could not prevail against the evil. Mrs. X. 
believed that volunteer visiting might at least 
begin a reform. The attempt was made, and 
has proved successful so far as it has gone. 

This is “how organization began,”—not 
hurriedly and as a new thing, but as an intel¬ 
ligent outgrowth from old methods which 
were leading to no good end. 


III. 


WHAT A DISTRICT CONFERENCE IS, AND 
HOW TO CREATE ONE. 

In the government of a State, we consider 
the question, Who shall be its officers ? to be 
one of primal importance. So, in the adminis¬ 
tration of charities in a city district, no rules 
can be laid down which should for a moment 
challenge our consideration, compared in sig¬ 
nificance with the necessity of obtaining the 
right persons to fill the committees. In the 
past, the question has been, “Will he do it?” 
in the future, the query will be, “ Can he do 
it ? ” Improvement in methods has, in part, 
wrought this change ; but advance in morality, 
more than all, demands that the best force the 
community can afford shall devote at least 
a portion of its energy to grappling with the 
problems presented by the unfortunate of 
great cities. This unfulfilled labor is the 
religion of the present and the future. It is 
the first duty of the Central Board of any 


District Conferences . 


2 7 


organization, and one never to be set aside 
for matters of secondary importance, that 
persons of ability be sedulously informed of 
the need of assistance, and constantly beck¬ 
oned to the front. Not as figure-heads, nor 
to lend their names, but to give such time 
as they can spare to strict performance of 
weekly duties; this being far more important 
to our advance than any gift of money. 
Without underrating what money can do, we 
have learned from the past, as well as the 
present, that, if the gifts of sympathy and 
energy are withheld from the work of the 
Associated Charities, wealth may be pro¬ 
nounced useless to perform the service. 

The conference of a district is composed 
of three parts : First, the District Committee, 
to which special reference has been made in 
considering the need of active intelligence in 
this service; Second, the Representatives of 
various societies and public or private Officers 
working among the poor of the vicinity; and, 
Third, the Visitors. This body constitutes a 
conference. One of the valuable effects of 
such a body has proved to be that the distinc¬ 
tive gifts of both men and women are required 
to accomplish the ends proposed. The com¬ 
parative ease with which we grasp difficulties 


28 


How to Help the Poor. 


in Boston, from this perfectly natural union, is 
to be remarked. We have no separated com¬ 
mittees. We have silently recognized the 
fact that in this business, because we are deal¬ 
ing with social questions and those of the 
family, we have need of each other. 

We believe in the value of a weekly meet¬ 
ing for each conference,— the committee to 
come together one hour before the moment 
of the meeting, in order to look over the 
business to be presented, and to dispose of 
such cases as need not be brought before the 
larger company. The agent will have time 
to ask questions and give advice, and the 
committee can thus bring itself into order and 
harmony, which will serve to expedite the busi¬ 
ness of the following hour. I will not give 
here the order of work already laid down for 
guiding the administration of a conference. 
So far as this business can be reduced to 
form and put on paper, it has been done, and 
may be found among the publications of the 
Associated Charities in Boston; and we feel 
assured that every district conference will find 
it greatly to its advantage to follow the printed 
plan as closely as possible. 

The relation between the agent and visitors 
is one that has been often discussed; but 


District Conferences. 


2 9 


we must beware of rules and of red tape. 
We have to deal with different agents and 
a large variety of visitors. Some excellent 
agents are far less able to satisfy the needs 
of the visitors than others. In such cases 
there may be special service of another kind 
which is remarkably performed, making it wise 
to supply this gap between visitors and agent 
in some other way. Again, the agent may be 
an excellent visitor, but slow to make efficient 
record of work really well accomplished. It 
would then devolve upon the committee to 
see that this want was remedied. A person 
of intelligence and unselfishness, devoted to 
the work, is what is required in an agent. 
When these qualities are given to the service, 
incapacity respecting details, in whatever direc¬ 
tion, should be voluntarily supplied, if possi¬ 
ble, by the committee. 

The work of the committee of each dis¬ 
trict conference includes one branch of labor 
too often omitted or forgotten. Each member 
should be informed respecting the public de¬ 
partments* of protection for the unprotected: 
what may be lawfully asked and received in 
cases of need; what shelter, what relief, what 
advice, or what methods of transportation; 
also, what loans may be obtained; where and 


30 


How to Help the Poor. 


how children may be cared for, and the best 
methods for saving. 

In short, the committee should hold its seat, 
not from any supposed superior wisdom, but 
from a power of which it is perfectly possible 
for persons of average intelligence to possess 
themselves; I mean resource, the ability which 
knowledge can give, prompted by sympathy, 
to turn quickly when called upon for relief, 
and to answer, “ If the conference considers 
this application a suitable one, at this or that 
place relief may be obtained.” 

Closely related to this question of organized 
administration of charity in cities is public 
out-door relief, or the distribution of money 
raised by taxation for the city poor, to which, 
under certain restrictions, they have a right 
by law. This “ right ” is one of the greatest 
of man’s inhumanities to man. How is the 
law to estimate, for instance, a woman’s capac¬ 
ity to take care of herself, or the injury to her 
children from receiving a pauper’s fund ? 
Questions of relief which visitors find most 
delicate and difficult to decide are compli¬ 
cated by the demand upon public moneys 
made by a large proportion of the poor.* 

In this country, where every kind of labor 

* See quotation from Mr. Low in previous chapter. 


District Conferences. 31 

is needed, and more of it, at lower rates, is 
constantly in requisition, it is the blind lead¬ 
ing the blind and all falling into the ditch 
together for us to allow public money to be 
bestowed in what? are called settlements by 
law, instead of being given after investigation, 
and according to the individual need. What 
the people require is education, beginning 
with the lowest forms, in order that money 
invested in their behalf shall be anything but 
a future disgrace to our nation. By the lowest 
forms of education, I mean industrial educa¬ 
tion in its simplest development,— the use of 
the hands and feet for some common good. 

It should be carefully observed by the offi¬ 
cers of a district committee that their posi¬ 
tion, as such, has nothing to do with the 
management of loan systems, or savings, or 
tenements, or any form of relief. Their busi¬ 
ness is to understand where such systems 
exist, to discover if well administered, and to 
keep the roadways open between them and 
the needy. Of course, their influence will be 
invaluable for holding all such institutions up 
to the best working-point; but, by virtue of 
their office, they are examiners and indicators, 
and must carefully avoid the dangerous mis¬ 
take of loosing sight of their first duty in any 


32 


How to Help the Poor. 


such detail. Each member will have as much 
to do as one person can well perform, under 
ordinary circumstances, to obtain the proper 
information and communicate it, especially 
when we remember that no officer is consid¬ 
ered entirely exempt from the practical expe¬ 
rience of visiting the poor. 

The simple idea of a conference is that 
various individuals come together for the pur¬ 
pose of getting each other’s advice and knowl¬ 
edge. Thought and care are required to 
make such meetings interesting and profit¬ 
able, and how best to do this is a question 
to be kept continually before the committee. 
The meeting should not only be agreeable to 
the visitor who has a chance to talk, but the 
case in hand. should be made interesting, if 
possible, to the whole company, which is apt 
to include some persons wholly ignorant of 
the people talked about. I know it is difficult; 
but I am convinced, if we keep this end in 
view, we can advance much in this respect. 
There should be no talking back and forth 
among the visitors, but the chairman and 
agent should hold the business in their hands 
sufficiently to bring out the interesting points 
in turn from those present, giving every one a 
five minutes’ chance during the afternoon for 


District Conferences. 


33 


the benefit of the whole, and thus limiting and 
passing over suggestions which belong to a 
more private consideration of any case. 

Our watchword is Co-operation. Its practi¬ 
cal efficacy can only be fully understood at the 
conference. A lady visitor hears the secre¬ 
tary read the name of Mrs. Kelly, giving 
street and number. She responds : “ I found 
Mrs. Kelly well ten days ago when I called 
to see her last, but the baby was ailing and 
needing food from the Diet Kitchen, which I 
obtained for hen^J^havfi"uufgfcegen able to 
visit her since./ id- King in 

the hope thaf you could tell me howWie is 
getting on. iTciie other children werfeall at 
school the dajMP called, and I coul^rot see 
them.” Qf 

There is a morneS?!* 1 "yfWIlceT Then the 
truant-officer says: “ A week ago, I found 
the Kelly children weren’t at school, and so 
I looked them up; found chicken-pox had 
broken out among them. She was pretty 
down-hearted, being a lone woman, and no 
money in the house, because the sick baby 
had kept her from going to work. Said I’d 
call the next day, but was detained; and, 
when I went the day after, I couldn’t find them. 
The neighbors’ doors were locked (they were 



34 


How to Help the Poor . 


all at work), and I couldn’t understand it—” 
Just then, a gentleman, who had dropped into 
the meeting half hoping that he might hear 
something of this case, spoke up, and de¬ 
scribed how “ One night last week, it must 
have been Thursday, I was hurrying home 
from business rather late, when I heard chil¬ 
dren crying. That’s a sound I can’t bear 
long. So I pushed open the broken door of 
the house where the sounds came from, and 
went in. Going up the third flight of stairs, at 
last I found the room, and knocked. Nobody 
answered; but the children still were crying, 
so I went in. There lay a woman on the floor 
in a heavy drunken sleep, just where she had 
fallen after emptying a mug which stood on 
the table. Five hungry, sick, miserable chil¬ 
dren were wailing, and trying to rouse her in 
vain. It was a pitiful sight, and what to do 
I did not know. Out I ran, downstairs again, 
and asked the first police-officer I met where 
I could find the Society for Prevention of 
Cruelty to Children. He said he didn’t know. 
I told him he ought to; but, if he would take 
some money and carry the children some 
bread and milk for their supper, I would come 
back and get them, while he could take away 
the mother. I found it a long distance to the 


District Conferences . 


35 


office of the Society, and by that time the 
hour was approaching for the last train to 
take me home that night; but the agent was 
kind and prompt, and sent off at once to get 
the children. Unfortunately, I have not been 
in town since, and could not hear anything 
more of them; so I thought I would drop in 
here.” Whereupon, a quiet little lady in the 
corner said: “ I happened to come into the 
office just as you left it, and the agent asked 
me to go with him, there seemed so much to 
do. When we reached Mrs. Kelly’s, I de¬ 
cided to take the baby myself. We carried 
the two younger children to Auntie Gwynne, 
while the agent took charge of the two elder. 
The officer, meanwhile, was obliged to carry 
the poor mother to Deer Island.” 

Our agent then told us how her work for 
the week had carried her to Deer Island, 
where, to her great surprise and sorrow, she 
found Mary Kelly, whom she had formerly 
known as a good, respectable woman. “ The 
poor thing was terribly abashed and grieved 
at her situation, and explained how a neigh¬ 
bor, seeing her discouragement, had thought 
to comfort her by bringing her beer. Little 
by little, yet faster than she was aware, the 
habit of taking beer had grown until she was 


36 How to Help the Poor . 

mastered by it. The kind of beer, too, seemed 
to have dangerous elements in it such as 
make this drink harmful; and before she knew 
it her senses were stolen away, and she found 
herself at Deer Island. So I said, seeing how 
wretched she was, that I would try to get her 
transferred on probation to the Massachu¬ 
setts Home for Intemperate Women in town, 
where her friend and visitor could see her. 
After we had assured ourselves of her desire 
to behave well, we got permission from the 
officers of public institutions to bring her 
back to town; and she is doing well, and 
giving every promise of being able to have her 
home and children some day. I wish the vis¬ 
itor would now take up the case again, and, as 
soon as the woman ought to be trusted, help 
her to get work and to establish herself once 
more. After such a severe lesson, and with a 
kind friend to watch over her, I think this will 
never happen again; and she is longing and 
weeping for her children.” The visitor prom¬ 
ises to go and see her, and this case ends for 
the afternoon. 

From this illustration, it is easy to see how 
a party of people interested in the same work 
can help each other. It is not often that all 
the intricacies of a case can be followed out 


District Conferences. 


37 


in this way at one session, but it is striking to 
see how many can be settled in one season. 
In a multitude of counsellors there is knowl¬ 
edge as well as safety. 

Many of the Boston districts contain five or 
six hundred families who receive aid. Of this 
large number, not more than one hundred and 
fifty, on an average, are properly visited and 
cared for by agent and visitors. New cases 
sent in as having applied for help in the 
street, or otherwise, and requiring immediate 
investigation, in order to relieve the mind of 
the person applied to, who has generously 
refrained from giving because of our con¬ 
tinual appeals to that end,—even such cases 
have, in a few instances, been suffered to lie 
over. Is it not easy to see that public dissat¬ 
isfaction will be the result of such inadequacy, 
and also that the fault lies, not in the plan, 
but in a misunderstanding of methods ? How 
can this evil be rectified? It cannot, of 
course, be accomplished by a stroke of the 
pen, or in a moment’s time. But when and 
how shall a beginning be made ? We ask 
the agent. The answer comes promptly, “I 
have as much as I can do to keep the run of 
one hundred and fifty cases, assist the visitors, 
and keep up the books.” There seems small 
chance of help in that direction. 


38 How to Help the Poor. 

How then ? First, Every new case sent 
from outside, because of especial application 
and present need, should be considered by 
the committee as a duty to be at once per¬ 
formed, either by one of their own body, the 
agent, or the visitors; one of the old cases 
being dropped for that week, or fortnight, 
if necessary. Second, For such emergencies, 
a committee might be formed to be styled 
“ assistant visitors,”— persons who are willing 
to be called upon to assist the agent in visits 
of investigation, in addition to the three or 
four families regularly under their care. A 
very small company of such helpers will be of 
great assistance to the committee; but, the 
larger the number, the less chance there will 
be, of course, for anything to be neglected. 
A large organization pledges itself to respond 
to these appeals from a busy public. It 
exists for this purpose, and the execution of 
the labor rests with the district committees. 
The old excuse of “ too many cases in hand ” 
must be set aside. We are bound to under¬ 
stand the general condition of the district in 
which we work, and to remember that one 
applicant has as much right to our attention 
as another, until all their needs are perfectly 
understood and classified. Of course, better 


District Conferences . 


39 


work will be accomplished when we can con¬ 
fine ourselves to one hundred and fifty cases, 
but that should be in the future. Our first 
work is to understand the field as it lies 
before us, to canvass each case, to beseech 
the churches who are giving alms here and 
there to send a visitor to the conference and 
learn what is there known of the family they 
are aiding. Private missionaries, any one, in 
short, giving either money or what is called 
“ charity-work ” to any family within the juris¬ 
diction, should be, in a measure, one of the 
district conference, and persuaded to look 
more closely, perhaps, into the condition of 
their charge, or to modify their plan of pro¬ 
cedure materially in connection with especial 
persons. 

Another measure for obtaining knowledge 
of families in the district, who cannot be regu¬ 
larly visited for lack of helpers, will be to 
gather the children into little schools,— sew¬ 
ing-schools, Sunday-schools, vacation-schools, 
kitchen garden, kindergarten, cooking-schools, 
or wherever the committee may see opportu¬ 
nity to place them,— and the elders into indus¬ 
trial schools, laundries, sewing, carpentry, and 
the like. Last year, a weekly evening-school 
for boys brought in a number whose homes 


40 


How to Help the Poor. 


were quite unknown to us; also, at Christmas 
and other festivals, we may be brought into 
relation to new families; and, if we confine 
our attention entirely to our own district, the 
time will not be long when we shall have the 
whole number of recorded recipients of relief 
in hand, and soon very much reduced. But, 
if a beginning is never made, and our ener¬ 
gies are spent in trying to elevate and educate 
the few, helping them up very successfully, as 
we may, we shall find a large body straying 
about the same as ever, begging and imposing 
upon the community, until we shall become 
only “the one more society” so much dreaded 
everywhere, and the end of organization will 
remain unfulfilled. We must be content for a 
time to do more than we can,—that is, we must 
do less well than we can for the few, until we 
understand the general need somewhat better, 
and have more help to grapple with it. The 
rock ahead has always been that men and 
women in this business lose sight of the idea, 
and are ensnared in ruts and in details. Let 
the committee, at least, hold its head above 
water. 

In this connection, the experience of Miss 
Mary Carpenter, in the ragged schools of 
England, is worthy our consideration. She 


District Co?iferences. 41 

says it was with the utmost difficulty she could 
keep attention fixed upon the lowest strata. 
The moment her children had opportunity, 
they were lifted out of their old degradation 
and became a different class. Teachers and 
friends naturally wished to keep on with the 
hopeful cases ; but she was obliged continually, 
as it were, to plunge her own hands down to 
the very bottom, and bring up those who had 
sunken there. This also should be the work 
of our district committees. 

The foregoing difficulties and how to meet 
them turn upon a subject almost too familiar 
to be mentioned,— the need of more visitors. 

“ I feel most deeply,” writes a friend, “ that 
the disciplining of our immense poor popula¬ 
tion must be effected by individual influence; 
and that this power can change it from a mob 
of paupers and semi-paupers into a body of 
self-dependent workers.” Believing this, any 
labor among the poor becomes not only a 
hope which is constantly nourished by suc¬ 
cess, but it also assumes the form of public 
responsibility, where every man and woman 
may do his or her part. Visiting the poor 
does not mean entering the room of a person 
hitherto unknown, to make a call. It means 
that we are invited to visit a miserable abode 


42 


How to Help the Poor. 


for the purpose first of discovering the cause 
of that misery. A physician is sometimes 
obliged to see a case many times before the 
nature of the disease is made clear to his 
mind; but, once discovered, he can prescribe 
the remedy. How many visitors fail in this 
long undertaking! We are at a great disad¬ 
vantage : we go without authority, and often 
without knowledge; we are met sometimes 
with distrust and possible dislike. I can only 
say, in face of all failures, the success has 
been triumphant. But, looking at the failures, 
I am more and more persuaded that we are 
working at too great a loss. I mean our vis¬ 
itors too frequently become discouraged, and, 
in army words, “we lose too many men.” A 
partial cure for this is to be found in the tene¬ 
ment house system as introduced by Miss 
Octavia Hill, and pursued in New York and 
Boston. A proposition for governmental su¬ 
pervision, quoted in one of the reports of the 
Board of Health, has been suggested as pos¬ 
sible and necessary. Such oversight would 
assist benevolent work in the homes of the 
poor, immeasurably. 

The value of organized charity lies with the 
visitors, not in the organization; and as in 
the St. Vincent de Paul Society, from which 


District Conferences . 


43 


we have derived so many suggestions, no offi¬ 
cers are exempted from this duty, so with our 
district committees,— we allow no one to be 
ignorant of it. Constant experience keeps a 
continual sympathy alive between the com¬ 
mittee and visitors. They all labor together; 
therefore, their chief desire is to increase their 
numbers, seeking to* relieve each other of too 
great a burden, instead of the old habit of 
asking more work from the same visitors. In 
twenty years after the establishment of the 
St. Vincent de Paul Society, Ozanam, its 
founder, said with his dying breath, “ Instead 
of eight visitors, we have grown to two thou¬ 
sand in Paris alone, and we visit there five 
thousand families.” Is our labor to be carried 
any less far? I believe not. Our methods 
have improved, our knowledge upon this sub¬ 
ject has greatened. It remains for our faith in 
God and in humanity to carry us forward into 
victory. 


IV. 


WHAT A VISITOR MAY DO FOR CHILDREN 
AND YOUNG PERSONS. 

“ How to care for the children of the very- 
poor, and often depraved, part of the popu¬ 
lation of cities,” writes Mrs. Lowell, “is one 
of the most serious of public questions; and, 
in discussing it, it is necessary to consider the 
effect to be produced, not only upon the child, 
but upon its parents and upon the public at 
large. . . . The effect upon the tax-payer and 
upon the hard-working poor man, struggling 
to bring up his children to be honest, indus¬ 
trious, and healthy, must not be ignored. 
The tax-payer must not be required to give 
what he needs for his own family to support 
the family of his dissolute neighbor, unless 
that family threatens to be a public injury; 
nor should the honest laborer see the children 
of the drunkard enjoying advantages which 
his own may not hope for. . . . There should 
be a constant pressure brought to bear on 


What to do for Children. 


45 


parents to contribute toward the support of 
their children; and, as soon as they are able, 
they should be required to take them back [if 
they have been placed in institutions], or, if 
unable or unfit to do this after a given 
number of years, they should forfeit all claim 
to them. No child should be held as a public 
charge for an indefinite time and the parent 
have a right to reclaim it at any moment. A 
parent who will not perform the duties of a 
parent should not have the rights of a parent.” 

Dr. Tuckerman says: “ I am quite satisfied 
that far the greatest part of the abject pov¬ 
erty and of the recklessness in crime which 
people either our prisons or almshouses, or 
which is seen in our streets, may be followed 
back to causes which showed themselves 
within the first fifteen or twenty years of life, 
— to causes which at that period are within 
our power.” 

Within our power. Will the visitors 
among the poor — the men and women who 
are hoping “ to do something ”— bring these 
words home! 

There is now a statute in Massachusetts 
which reads as follows : — 

[Acts of 1882, Chap. 270.] 

Section 4. Whoever unreasonably neglects to pro¬ 
vide for the support of his minor child shall be pun- 


46 


How to Help the Poor. 


ished by fine not exceeding twenty dollars, or by 
imprisonment in the house of correction not exceeding 
six months. 

It is clear, therefore, that the visitor has the 
law upon his side in many cases of neglect. 
What is chiefly required further is to see 
that laws of this nature be enforced. The 
moral sentiment of our people has framed 
the statutes bravely. It only remains for 
those who wish to succor the unfortunate to 
see that the abused child obtains the benefit 
granted him by law. 

One of the forms in which the wrongs of 
children appear is in the neglect of the 
babies of wet nurses. One who has made a 
specialty of the care of mothers and infants 
writes: — 

The exceptional care and watchfulness required to 
save the life of a young infant separated from its 
mother, and placed at board during the summer months, 
can only be estimated by those who have undertaken 
such a responsibility. It would, no doubt, be better 
for both infant and mother that they should remain 
together through the summer. And this can often be 
arranged by having the mother and child admitted to 
the Massachusetts Infant Asylum or Medford Infant 
Asylum; but the poor young girl, tempted by the high 
wages of a wet nurse, and ignorant of the danger in¬ 
curred by the separation, seldom hesitates in her choice. 
We are then compelled either to leave the poor baby 


What to do for Children. 


47 


to its fate,— which would be speedy and almost certain 
death,— or to expend upon it an amount of time, toil, 
and care which would suffice to save the lives of ten 
infants at another season, with the result (which we 
have now learned to expect almost as a matter of 
course) that the mother, removed from our influence, 
separated almost wholly from her child, and taught 
indifference to her duties and responsibilities by her 
employer, comes to us at the end of the summer with 
an urgent request that we will assist her to relieve her¬ 
self altogether of the charge of her infant, by ’placing 
it in some institution,— although a wet nurse is better 
able to support her child than any of our patients not 
similarly placed. Wet nurses, therefore, cause us more 
trouble than any of our other patients, and are the most 
disappointing of our cases. But this need not be so if 
the bearings of the situation were understood by the 
employer, who would then co-operate with us in what is 
for the real interest of the mother and of her child. 

In such service, the idea of the visitor’s 
true work is made evident. She (for this 
would be a case for a woman) is the assisting 
and instructing medium between the young 
nurse and her employer on one hand, and 
the child’s questionable fate on the other. 

Cobden said, “ There are many well-mean¬ 
ing people in the world who are not so useful 
as they might be, from not knowing how to go 
to work.” In studying this subject of neg¬ 
lected children, methods of work have been 


48 


How to Help the Poor. 


tried which bring us nearer regeneration 
than any attempts to influence the danger¬ 
ous classes in any other direction. Here we 
know “how to go to work.” 

“ I would say,” writes Dr. Tuckerman, “to 
all who wish to do good, whether they have 
much or little to give to those who are in want, 
strive to save at least one truant, vagrant, 
or vicious child, who, if no friendly hand be 
stretched out, will fall into the abyss either of 
pauperism or crime.” 

The taking of children from miserable 
homes in tenement houses during the summer 
and sending them away for a week or two 
“ gives a look almost of health ” to some who 
were pinched and wretched to look upon. 
Air does much, and milk and oat-meal, instead 
of tea and bad bread, do the rest. 

“ That these children are alive at all, that 
fatherhood and motherhood are allowed to be 
the right of drunkards and criminals of every 
grade, is a problem whose present solution 
passes any human power, but which all lovers 
of their kind must sooner or later face. . . . 
Hopeless as the outlook often seems, salva* 
tion for the future of the masses lies in these 
children. Not in a teaching which gives them 
merely the power to grasp at the mass of sen-. 


What to do for Children . 


49 


sational reading, . . . but in a practical train¬ 
ing which shall give the boys trades . . . and 
the girls suitable occupations.” 

Our prosperity seems to be still too great to 
allow young women to feel any necessity to go 
into domestic service; or the reason may be 
a moral one, and lie deeper. The labors per¬ 
formed in bag-factories and other factories 
and shops are certainly quite as heavy and 
less refining than those of household service. 
“To be a shop-girl seems the highest ambi¬ 
tion ”; but the steps downward from this am¬ 
bition are frightfully easy. It is, however, a 
good beginning toward the cure of the evil to 
have it widely recognized, and to find a grow¬ 
ing respect for household knowledge, espe¬ 
cially for the fine art of cooking. 

House-keepers’ classes are forming gradu¬ 
ally, where young girls from ten to fifteen are 
taught everything except cooking, that requir¬ 
ing a separate foundation. To get girls into 
such schools, if only for a few weeks, often 
develops tastes and capacities which they 
could not previously know they possessed, and 
by which their whole lives are lifted from the 
old degradations. 

For unmanageable girls and those who 
must be sent to institutions, we have learned 


5 ° 


How to Help the Poor . 


after sad experience that a great deal remains 
to be done. In Massachusetts, the Dorches¬ 
ter Industrial School for Girls took the lead in 
inaugurating a system of individual guardian¬ 
ship. This plan has resulted in a company of 
State Auxiliary Visitors, who aim to hold per¬ 
sonal guardianship over every girl graduating 
from the public reform schools and institu¬ 
tions. “ One whole year before the Auxiliary 
Visitors began their work for the wards of the 
State, the Hampden County Children’s Aid 
Association, proposed and created by Mrs. 
Clara T. Leonard, had taken every child from 
the almshouse, and provided for all children 
who might come upon the county in future, 
by securing committees in every town who 
should seek out homes and watch over the 
children when placed. This society has the 
right of legal guardianship over its wards, 
granted by the legislature. A certain amount 
is paid by the almshouse toward the board of 
those children thus placed Out who are too 
young to earn their own board and clothes.” 

The report of Mrs. Nassau Senior, of Eng¬ 
land, a few years ago, describing the lack of 
power in girls trained in institutions to stand 
up and take their places in the world, first 
drew attention seriously to this great topic. 


What to do for Children . 51 

Above all, such girls need friends; and, with¬ 
out them, they are seen to sink down into the 
great “ criminal sea,” which has been largely 
made up of graduates from public institutions. 
The stories told by our New England visitors 
are touching and interesting beyond words. 
Compared with this work, how petty other 
occupations seem! 

We will turn now to the consideration of 
another class of neglected youth, and recall 
the apparently harmless gift of a few cents 
given to a boy by Mrs. X. Such gifts to 
street children are sometimes a fountain of 
life-long evil. If, however, instead of this 
baleful response, we listen to the real wants 
of the little child, and gather him up into the 
arms of love, we have already learned that 
much will be accomplished. For those who 
have not yet learned “how to do it,” the 
following truth, pronounced by high author¬ 
ity, will at least show where we must abstain 
from doing. “ Every child,” says Dr. Tucker- 
man, “ who is a beggar, almost without excep¬ 
tion, will become a vagrant, and probably a 
thief.” 

“In Hamburg, at one time,” writes Mr. 
Kellogg, “ a police regulation went so far as 
to forbid almsgiving in the street.” Such 


5 2 


How to Help the Poor. 


measures in America would be neither prof¬ 
itable nor desirable; but what is seen to 
be a necessity is that public opinion shall 
recognize the wrong-doing in such careless 
response to those who appeal to us in their 
misery. Our hope is in and for the children; 
yet many a mother with four or five little ones, 
from whom she must be away all day, will 
lock them up together in a room, under the 
care of the eldest, until her return. One of 
the duties of a friend should be to prevent 
this locking up of children; because there are 
both nurseries and kindergartens where the 
little ones can be sent, besides the common 
schools for those over five years of age. For 
the mother, eager to get to her own work, the 
difficulty of preparing little children for school 
so early is certainly serious. But if she be 
friendly to the idea, and will take the baby 
to the nursery as she goes, some kind neigh¬ 
bor will often help the others on their way. 
Teachers of kindergartens will sometimes call 
for a child who has no other chance of getting 
to school. 

Although no one case is just like another, 
human nature being infinite in its variety, it 
will still be useful to study ways of relief em¬ 
ployed by others, and to see what has been 


What to do for Children. 53 

accomplished. In the hope of gaining use¬ 
fulness in this way, the following history is 
related. 

There was a family, living in a certain dis¬ 
trict, where there were two little girls, seven 
and nine years old. They were under the 
care of their aunt, who had married their 
grandfather, and she held papers for the 
guardianship of the children. She was a 
French Canadian, speaking little or no Eng¬ 
lish, but expressing great anxiety for the 
good of her wards to every one who came 
near her. She was a Protestant, and an ex¬ 
cellent beggar in her church and out of it. 
Everybody loved to be kind and generous to 
her, both for her own sake and the children’s; 
but one day the grandmother fell ill, and then 
the friendly visitor who was appointed by a 
conference of the Associated Charities was 
able to understand the case more perfectly. 

The family was found to consist of the 
grandmother and her husband, also her father, 
a son eighteen years old, and the two girls 
now nine and eleven. They were in debt; 
but, in spite of this fact, they had a family of 
pets: there were many poodle-dogs, big and 
little, a parrot, a cat, and canary-birds; and 
one day a woman, coming in to warm herself 


54 


How to Help the Poor. 


by their fireside, left her baby, never calling 
for it again; so the baby was included in the 
family. Four boarders were found to be also 
of the company; and these eleven human 
beings, with their pets, inhabited four rooms. 
The two girls cooked all the meals for the 
family of eleven persons. They were seldom 
allowed to go to school; and it was the grand¬ 
mother’s excuses in this particular which first 
aroused suspicion with regard to the case. 
When they did go, they had a habit of rushing 
down two flights of stairs, past the door of a 
crazy, drunken woman, whom they dreaded, 
and out into the street, trembling. On their 
return, piles of the day’s dishes awaited their 
washing. The household duties often kept 
them at work until eleven at night, and before 
six the next morning they must be up to get 
breakfast. They were on speaking acquaint¬ 
ance with all the men in the market-stalls. 
The boarders would get into fights with one 
another, and the girls were taught that they 
must not call in the police, and were even 
shown how to keep the officers away. The 
grandmother also instructed them to lie to 
the boarders and others, when any advan¬ 
tage could be gained; and their clothes were 
utterly neglected. 


What to do for Children. 


55 


“Imagine,” writes one who knew the cir¬ 
cumstances well, “ these girls, with refined and 
affectionate natures which made them favor¬ 
ites everywhere, leading such a life, and ruled 
by a woman whose bursts of temper, profanity, 
and coarseness made her a terror to those 
who did not know her cowardly spirit. The 
family had better means of support than many 
others, and resources which, if developed, 
might have made them respectably indepen¬ 
dent. But, in spite-of three years of the com¬ 
bined influence of church and charity visitors, 
instead of the grandparents working harder, 
they overworked the children in the house¬ 
hold service, taught them to beg and deceive, 
surrounded them with improper associates, 
and deprived them of their schooling. The 
result was the girls were growing up to lead 
unhealthful, dependent, deceitful, ignorant, 
and possibly still more degraded lives. Va¬ 
rious ways were then tried to obtain a peace¬ 
ful separation of the children from their 
grandmother, but without success. Hearing 
the report of the visitor, the conference asked 
that all ‘ relief ’ might be withdrawn from the 
family. This resulted in the grandmother’s 
allowing one of the girls to be put into a school 
supported by her church in a distant town; 


How to Help the Poor . 


56 

but in a short time she went secretly and en¬ 
ticed the child away. By this time, the con¬ 
stant labor of several visitors had given us 
the necessary evidence, and truant officers, 
relief-givers, and visitors all agreed that the 
time had come when it was necessary to take 
these children from their home by force. 
Assisted by the Massachusetts Society for the 
Prevention of Cruelty to Children, this was 
done, and the girls were placed in a public 
institution. 

“We had now checked the ‘old charity’ 
which gives outward relief, but develops no 
inward resources; and we had removed the 
children from the fearful influences which 
such charity often fosters. 

“ The ‘ new charity ’ had taken these children 
away from the only home that belonged to 
them, and had incurred the responsibility, 
therefore, of providing a better one. We 
had placed the girls in the institution, be¬ 
cause it is one of the places which serve as 
hospitals for the moral diseases of children. 
As soon as the Superintendent thought it 
wise, the elder girl was placed in a country 
family, which served as a convalescent home ; 
but the child’s moral sickness showed itself 
by unmistakable symptoms, so that her return 


What to do for Children . 57 

to the ‘ Home ’ soon became necessary. 
There she remained some time longer, until 
it seemed well to try again, especially as an 
excellent place opened for her,— a home 
which we knew would give her the combined 
love and wisdom so essential to the develop¬ 
ment of a child. After five weeks, the lady 
wrote that she had seen nothing like deceit 
in her, and thought her far above the average 
girl. An opportunity soon offered to send the 
sister to the family of a near neighbor, and 
the result proved satisfactory. It is quite 
possible further changes may become neces¬ 
sary with one or the other, but the way seems 
fair now to launch the girls upon a respec¬ 
table and independent life. 

“ Let us return for a moment to the grand¬ 
mother, thus suddenly bereft of her children. 
A chance was found for her at once to support 
herself by fine laundry work, but this she did 
not accept. It was then decided to leave her 
in the care of her church people, who now 
report her as supporting herself and living 
independent of relief.” 

“It were useless,” continues the faithful 
friend who has recorded this history, “to 
recount all these details, unless we can arrive 
at some principles of action and plans for the 


N 


58 How to Help the Poor . 

future provision of children thus rudely torn 
from their natural protectors. 

“ These principles may be ranged under five 
heads:— 

“ 1 st. The only just reason for taking chil¬ 
dren from their natural homes is to lift them 
out of MORAL POVERTY. MATERIAL POVERTY 
alone is not sufficient cause. 

“ 2d. When there is sign of moral disease, 
children may be placed in some of the numer¬ 
ous institutions or homes provided for them, 
which serve as hospitals for the treatment of 
such diseases. 

“3d. Children should not be allowed to 
stay too long in these institutions or homes, 
because they will become entirely dependent 
upon others, and unable to act for them¬ 
selves. One year may be fixed as the longest 
term. They should then be placed out in 
families for convalescence. 

“ 4th. If the moral disease makes its ap¬ 
pearance again, the children should be re¬ 
turned to the home for further hospital treat¬ 
ment. 

“5th. In selecting a home in a private 
family, great care should be taken to find 
one where the children will be taken in a 
measure for their own sake, not as servants 


What to do for Children. 59 

merely. If possible, brothers and sisters 
should be placed so near that their attach¬ 
ment for each other will be cherished.” 

We have the record of many families where 
the children have been taken away from 
drunken and unfit parents; but, unfortunately, 
the story does not often extend beyond the 
Marcella Street Home or some such hospital. 
Surely, it is strange that visitors should be 
content to stop at this critical part of their 
work, when one year flies so swiftly away and 
a second in any institution will possibly rob a 
child of the power to stand alone. 

The following brief history will be an excel¬ 
lent guide and encouragement to many a 
visitor who is looking upon the career of 
some young girl with dismay, if not with 
despair. 

A young American girl, Mary, just twelve 
years old, excited the strong interest of one 
of my friends. Her parents were intemper¬ 
ate, and were living at the North End of 
Boston. She was handsome, fond of excite¬ 
ment and of having her own way, like many 
bright girls, and she had no restraining influ¬ 
ences at home,— if the place of her abode 
deserved that name. 

After visiting the family nearly two years, 


6o 


How to Help the Poor. 


all the time having in mind a desire to get 
Mary to go to service in some kind family, 
my friend persuaded the father and mother to 
allow the girl to go where she would earn her 
board. She had been getting into wild habits 
and with bad companions. The summer was 
approaching for the second time when a reluc¬ 
tant consent was won from them; but, after a 
few weeks of absence, Mary became unhappy, 
and during the summer vacation of her visitor 
she returned to Boston. The second autumn 
found Mary in a worse condition than ever 
before. She had passed the summer in such 
amusements as the North End afforded to a 
reckless little girl. She had sufficient pride to 
be wretched in the despicable home afforded 
her by drunken parents, yet her friend did 
not wish, till other means failed, to deprive 
them forcibly of their guardianship. The 
teachers at her school, and others, agreed in 
calling her the worst girl of her age they 
knew, and pronounced their opinion that she 
could not be got out of Boston except under 
arrest. Her friends felt it would be useless 
to put her at service anywhere where she 
was not compelled to stay, and her character 
prevented her admission to the Dorchester 
School. 


What to do for Children . 61 

An application was then made to the Chil¬ 
dren’s Aid Society, which places children in 
families where they will be taught and strictly 
watched over. This society agreed to take 
charge of the child, and promised to have a 
home ready for her if the father and mother 
would sign a paper giving that society the 
guardianship for the next four years, and if 
the girl would consent to go. 

Here, then, was a case for influence, and 
my friend wrote to Mary’s father to come to 
see her. This he did not do, but sent a 
friend in his stead, to say that he would not 
give up his daughter. The deputy proved a 
true friend of the family, and, being a man of 
good sense, listened to the visitor. He was 
easily persuaded by her that the proposed 
plan was the best chance for the girl, there¬ 
fore he undertook to make the father change 
his mind. He succeeded in so far as to get 
his consent to see my friend, and the inter¬ 
view resulted in the signing of the paper by 
his wife and himself, giving up the guardian¬ 
ship of their daughter till she should reach 
’ the age of sixteen. 

The next point was to get Mary’s consent, 
as the parents refused to compel her; finally, 
the friend of the family and the visitor 






62 


How to Help the Poor. 


together persuaded her, also, although she 
knew she was going to a lonely farm-house 
where she must work and could never come to 
Boston. Her evil companions did all in their 
power to keep her; but she went, because, 
when it was fairly put before her, she did 
wish in her heart to be good. 

The visitor took her to her new home in the 
uninviting November season. She has be¬ 
haved on the whole extremely well, and the 
effect on her parents has been excellent. 
They were sobered by Mary’s loss, and for 
the sake of her younger sister are striving for 
a better life at home. 

Parents who cannot govern themselves are 
naturally unfitted for the guidance of their 
offspring. Girls are to be found everywhere 
who are utterly untaught in any business of 
life. They have been compelled to go to 
school, but they are ignorant of any useful 
service. They pick rags and sew in tailors’ 
shops, or, if they are especially fortunate, get 
into a store; but these places are over¬ 
crowded, and they can earn a mere pittance 
by such pursuits. Wherever a visitor can 
rescue a girl from such a life and cause her 
to be trained to some useful calling, a val¬ 
uable work has been accomplished. There 




What to do for Children. 63 

are many training-schools in and near Boston, 
besides the best of training which a well- 
disposed girl can always receive in the family 
of a good, motherly woman. 

We have been informed by the statistics 
of the Labor Bureau that there are twenty 
thousand homeless young women in Boston 
whose -wages average only $4.00 per week. 
The visitor should learn this statement by 
heart, and try to save as many girls as pos¬ 
sible from this hard fate. “A little self- 
control would raise the poor into the ranks 
of those who are really wanted and who have 
made their way from the brink of pauperism 
to a secure place, and one where they are 
under better influences. Above all is this 
true of the children. A little self-control 
Would enable the daughters of most of these 
people to rise into the class of domestic ser¬ 
vants; and their sons, instead of remaining 
street-sellers, would soon learn a trade or go 
to sea, if they cared to do regular work.” 

There are many societies, plans, and laws 
for the protection and education of children; 
but the difficulty of supplanting or supple¬ 
menting the work of a parent is great, and 
should be so. Where parents can by any 
means be brought to support and guide their 


64 How to Help the Poor. 

own offspring, it should be our idea to assist 
them to do this, since it is nature’s law. No 
help given is so sure of success as the per¬ 
sonal oversight of friendly visitors who feel a 
certain power behind their friendship. The 
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Chil¬ 
dren, our excellent truant-officers, the news¬ 
boys’ evening-school, the Law and Order 
League, all these are ready to strengthen 
their hands. One of the most hopeful meth¬ 
ods of dealing with street-boys is, however, 
to send them away on farms. From the 
streets of New York over sixty thousand boys 
have been sent into the West, who are doing 
well. What benevolent plan can give a better 
showing than this ? 

Let no visitor despair of doing something 
to improve the condition of neglected chil¬ 
dren, especially one who lives where there is 
a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to 
Children. Such a society is, however, a 
helper, and not a place where the burden 
may be dropped by the visitors. If the offi¬ 
cers find a friend who is willing to go with 
them to the judge and bear witness to the 
miseries of which they complain, they will 
find not only co-workers, but a genuine power 
to assist and relieve. If, however, the visitor 


What to do for Children. 65 

drops the case into their hands, and it be¬ 
comes one of thousands, it must not only wait 
its turn for examination, but, for lack of 
proper testimony, it may never come to justice 
at all. 

The hearing in neglect cases is not public, 
and no lady need hesitate to appear. It is 
given in a private room; and, as hearsay 
evidence is never received,— if the visitors 
really wish to help the children, it will largely 
depend upon themselves to get what is re¬ 
quired. All complaints are confidential. 

Where the parents of children have proved 
themselves unfit for their charge, the visitor 
may, through the Probate Court, obtain guar¬ 
dianship and custody of such children. This 
gives power to find a good home, and to 
advise for their future. 

“ Can I do anything more in this case ? ” a 
visitor will ask who has taken a woman with 
three children to visit, and who has been 
fortunate enough to find work for the mother. 
Yes, we answer. Do not feel this case is 
finished until each of those children is in a 
fair way to make industrious and useful mem- 
* bers of society. The inherited paupers of 
Europe must die and be crushed out on our 
soil; their children should become our useful 
and busy compatriots. 


y. 


SUGGESTIONS IN BEHALF OF THE AGED. 

Peggy O’Hara is now fifty-eight years of age, 
but she is feebler than her years would seem 
to justify. With her, as with so many others, 
poverty, combined with ignorance, and their 
attendant ills, have induced premature old age. 
Peggy’s husband went to the war in i860, and 
soon returned ill. Her father lived with them 
from the time he was sixty until he became 
eighty years of age, contributing very little to 
their support during this period. Peggy could 
do only the coarsest sewing; and it was through 
her bad sewing of the soldiers’ shirts, by which 
she was trying to maintain herself and her 
father while her husband was away, that I 
made her acquaintance. In the beginning, it 
was necessary to compel her to take out and 
do over a large part of her work ; to-day, she 
sews very neatly, but always slowly. She 
could find very little else to do, however, during 
the long period when she was confined at 


Care of the Aged. 


67 

home chiefly, with the care of both husband 
and father, and it was impossible for her to 
meet the family expenses without help. One 
friend paid her rent, the overseers found the 
family entitled to a “ settlement,” and there¬ 
fore gave them certain punctual relief, and 
many givers of occasional doles appeared 
who managed to keep them comfortable. At 
length, the father and husband died, also 
many of the old friends; but begging had 
been found very lucrative and quite agreeable. 
Peggy wished to continue her old plan of life, 
with the hope of reaping a good harvest for 
herself; but the friend on whom she chiefly 
depended, having the needs of many depend¬ 
ent persons upon her hands, and seeing at 
last by her experience that there was a better 
way, resolved that Peggy must now try to 
maintain herself. She stated this necessity 
frankly to her, and said, as she was now left 
to herself, she must manage to earn what was 
necessary for her own support. She did not 
require so much room, and could take some 
one to lodge with her. Peggy stoutly opposed 
the suggestion; but, coming shortly after to 
her friend, in a depressed frame of mind,— 
having been sent for, indeed, because she was 
found begging in spite of remonstrance,— she 


68 


How to Help the Poor. 


said that she could not live peaceably with 
anybody she could think of; other women 
would wrong her and make her life miserable. 
Her friend listened (understanding Peggy well 
enough to know this was quite true), then an¬ 
swered, “ Well, Peggy, why shouldn’t you take 
a little child to look after, some one of the 
many motherless little ones we are constantly 
hearing of?” Peggy thought not, and her 
friend was for the moment a little discouraged 
with regard to finding the right thing for her. 
But, about six weeks later, going to her rooms 
one day to see how she was getting on without 
any relief except what the overseers granted 
in view of her settlement, she found Peggy 
unusually comfortable and bright, and a little 
baby asleep in a cradle in the corner. No 
words could express Peggy’s satisfaction. At 
last, she had found something to love and care 
for, and her whole appearance was changed. 
The money she received for its care was just 
about enough to pay the room rent and for 
the baby’s food, and this made her comfort¬ 
able with the bit of washing and coarse sew¬ 
ing she found weekly. But, apart from this, 
even if no money had come from it, the influ¬ 
ence of the child itself proved beneficent in 
bringing cheerfulness into a poor, arid life, 




Care of the Aged. 


69 

which had lost courage and hope and desire, 
and was sinking under the early approach of 
age. 

Peter Church, as he is sometimes called, is 
an old Italian of the better class of poor. We 
found him living utterly alone, in great filth 
and destitution. He said ten cents a day was 
all his food cost, because he lived chiefly on 
macaroni which he cooked himself. He 
would go to gentlemen whom he knew a 
little, on the streets or at their offices, and 
ask a small sum for his support. He had 
once taught his native tongue in a rudimen¬ 
tary -way, but his sight had failed; and he 
liked to roam the streets at his own will until 
he was tired, and then at night he would 
sometimes make a little fire and play the 
flute. When he first came to our notice, he 
was becoming feeble. It was getting unsafe 
for him to go about alone, lest he should be 
thrown down. He was losing strength from 
cold and lack of nourishment. Nevertheless, 
we discovered that he had once tried the 
shelter of an institution for a few weeks, and 
had been so unhappy at the loss of his free¬ 
dom and the constant sight of misery that he 
ran away on the earliest opportunity. It was 
a puzzle what to do. For a few months, some 




70 How to Help the 'Poor. 

friend to whom he had applied for help gave 
the money to an interested visitor, to be paid 
out in the very small portions he required. 
Meanwhile, many plans were suggested for 
his shelter and protection ; but to all of them 
the independent old man turned a deaf ear. 
At length, in a kindly talk, it was discovered 
that the sufferer had relatives in another city. 
An account of his condition was written to 
them, and very soon a reply came, saying, 
though they were still struggling themselves, 
they would each subscribe seventy-five cents 
per week, the total proving sufficient for the 
old man’s modest board and maintenance. 

The friendly visitor takes sincere pleasure 
in seeing this money paid out to a needy 
family willing to take care of him for the 
remuneration received. 

It is a cause for wonder to see how many 
aged and infirm persons are left to pine away 
in the attics of cities, forgotten by their own 
people, and receiving fifty cents a week to 
pay their rent from some relief society. It 
is not astonishing that good honest Betty 
Higdons do not wish to go to the almshouse: 
but there are many cases where intemperance 
and uncleanliness have set in, induced by 
their feeble and solitary condition ; and where, 




when kindly persuasions are brought to bear, 
they will go to Austen Farm or some other 
retreat, and once having made the change are 
grateful and pleased. 

I found two sisters living in a scant, squalid 
fashion. They were Scotch by birth, and 
had been dressmakers, but had outlived their 
custom and their usefulness. They were 
getting small doles which they chiefly spent 
in drink “to keep up their spirits.” They 
would not tolerate the idea of being sent 
away, at first. The visitor was firm about it, 
all relief was cut off, and they cannot now 
express the gratitude they feel for the care 
and shelter they receive at a public refuge, 
near Boston, for aged women. 

“Among those who have fallen from fort¬ 
une into utter penury, and suffered in 
silence,” writes a friend, “are the Grays, 
two old brothers, Englishmen,— one a good 
classical scholar, and the other of such abil¬ 
ity that he formerly earned several thousand 
dollars a year in business. He was ruined 
by a partner. I found him, one day, warm¬ 
ing himself by the fire of a sickly little old 
woman who befriended him and cooked his 
rye or corn meal once a day. He has eaten 
meat rarely for years. I had heard of his 


7 2 


How to Help the Poor . 


distress, and forced myself, against his will, 
into his chamber. I never have seen such 
utter destitution: no fire, no stove, no lamp, 
no comforter, no blanket, no pillow, almost 
no furniture. Many remnants of a sheet had 
been sewed again and again together, till it 
was now perhaps three feet wide. What was 
once an excelsior mattress was now about as 
hard as a board. ‘You do not know what I 
have suffered here,’ said he: ‘ I was ashamed 
to let you see it.’ To supply all these needs 
was a pleasure. His gratitude was even sur¬ 
passed by his unwillingness to be helped. I 
sent five dollars by a lady for him to make 
some drawings, but he had parted with all 
his apparatus, and refused the money. He was 
not a case for the Overseers of the Poor or 
any public relief. Our conference voted that 
he should have a pension of two dollars a 
week, which was enough for his food, as he 
has his rent free. 

“ The two dollars were nominally given him 
for errands for the conference, which he per¬ 
formed most zealously. ‘I see through it 
all,’ said he: ‘you want me to think I am 
earning it. Let me do all you can.’ 

“ His literary brother had been poorer still, 
and, having no fire, frequented a public library 


Care of the Aged. 


73 


where he could read and keep warm; and 
then, for lack of food and fire, chewed ginger 
to keep alive. He, too, received a pension, 
kindly raised by the clerks of an institution 
which knew him. 

“They were about the last survivors of a 
family which had included a barrister, a 
clergyman of the English Church, and a mer¬ 
chant. 

“Charity sometimes appears hard when it 
cuts off relief from those able to earn a 
good support, yet who prefer to beg; but 
surely it delights to discover and tenderly 
relieve those who have done their best, and 
who are left in old age to suffer, unfriended 
and alone.” 

A visitor of thought and experience, to 
whom the foregoing pages had been referred, 
writes in reply: “ The foregoing cases were 
not all ideally treated. Some of them had 
been injured by doles, and others by the 
notion that relief from the city is a right. 
But such experiences -lead to certain prin¬ 
ciples which should be followed in the care 
of aged people. The first impulse, when we 
find a white-haired woman living alone and 
apparently friendless, is to find some home in 
whose sheltering care she can be placed. But 



74 


How to Help the Poor. 


a home which is not full is hard to find; and 
the more homes are built, the larger grows 
the crowd of applicants. Once in, the old 
person often finds the rules necessary to so 
large a company irksome, and wishes herself 
back in her own lonely room. But, the 
bridge being burned behind her, she remains 
only half happy and half grateful for the 
bounty she has received. Means must there¬ 
fore be sought to reduce the number of ap¬ 
plicants, and to confine their privileges to 
those who really need the kind of care an 
institution gives. Also, greater consideration 
is required in order to care properly for those 
who remain outside.” 

Mrs. Lowell writes succinctly on this 
subject:— ' 

We are constantly coming on chronic cases , so to 
speak,— old, or permanently sick, people who can never 
hope to earn a living. The only thing to be done for 
such (unless we simply pass them by, as perhaps in the 
early stages of our work we must) is to provide for 
them permanent relief of one kind or another,— either 
put them into a suitable iifctitution, or secure from indi¬ 
viduals such regular relief as will place them above the 
need of casual help, and then see to it that they do not 
beg. 

The following suggestions for the better 
care of the aged are contributed by a thought¬ 
ful friend and fellow-worker : — 


Care of the Aged. 


75 


ist. By patient study of each individual, 
and by ingenious experiment of one plan after 
another, some fit occupation can often be 
found which shall bring both happiness and 
profit. Peggy O’Hara’s story illustrates this. 

2d. If unable to earn enough for full sup¬ 
port, the relatives should be sought out, and 
persuaded to bear the burden, as in Peter 
Church’s case. 

3d. If both work and relatives fail, who 
shall care for this worn-out soul ? — we as indi¬ 
viduals and friends (to make the end of life 
peaceful and content for one who has done 
well his part in the world’s work), or we as a 
body polity, giving the bare necessaries of life 
to one whose destitute condition is a symptom 
of disease ? To answer this question wisely, 
a knowledge of the past life is necessary. If 
opportunities of saving have been thought¬ 
lessly passed by, if intemperance or vice has 
been allowed control, neither pleasant man¬ 
ners nor the most pathetic pleading should 
prevent our seeing that to help such a person 
encourages improvidence, intemperance, and 
vice in others. If relatives who ought to aid 
will not do so, they should be made to feel 
that, because of their negligence, the disgrace 
of becoming a pauper falls upon their kin. 


76 How to Help the Poor 

Aid must therefore come from us as a body- 
polity to protect the community from people 
infected with moral disease. Such cases 
should be aided only in the almshouse. Pri¬ 
vate charity does not do its full part while 
any other than almshouse cases are allowed 
to fall into the care of the city authorities. 

If, on the other hand, savings have been 
swept away by misfortune, or slowly eaten up 
by long sickness; if, in short, no serious fault 
is behind the poverty that has fallen like a 
blight upon old age,— we ought to be proud 
and glad to share our abundance with these 
stricken ones; and those who have been em¬ 
ployers or known the aged people well in any 
relation of life ought to have the first claim to 
this privilege of doing good. If to a stranger 
first comes the knowledge of the need, be it 
his grateful duty to seek out the old friends. 
If none can be found, private benevolence 
must see that the sum necessary for comfort 
is regularly given. Let not a week of plenty 
be followed by weeks of semi-starvation, be¬ 
cause we will not take the trouble to make 
our relief regular and adequate. 

What can be done to prevent old people 
from becoming dependent upon strangers? 
We can encourage thrift, and foster family 


Care of the Aged. 


77 


affection and the sense of responsibility in 
children for their parents, in brothers for 
their sisters; and, at least with every appli¬ 
cant for our charity, and often in counsel 
with those we know in other relations, we 
can use our forethought to make sure that 
as many as possible are put in the way of 
providing not only money, but friends, for 
their own old age. 

How many women left stranded at forty, 
who have bravely made their way alone, 
might have been saved the unhappiness and 
need into which they fall in extreme age, if 
into the empty heart some other lonely ones 
had been taken, and a new home, where all 
worked together, could have been made! 


VI. 


INVESTIGATION. 

The science of investigation is only half 
understood by those who believe in it, and 
only half believed in by the world in general. 

“ I like his looks ” must always be a strong 
argument, because character carves and 
sculptures itself on the human face in un¬ 
mistakable lines; but, in order to learn 
whether the original value of a face has been 
raised or degraded by the will behind it, 
which we call character, is a knowledge no 
one can get with surety at first sight or with¬ 
out study. 

The cry, “ What in the world can we do for 
these people ? ” comes often to the ear, if not 
to our own lips. Perhaps we find a family 
far too respectable for the almshouse, but 
who seem to be of no use, and, as it were, 
born without the power to stand alone. What 
can be done, indeed ? 

It is a brave heart, and one of much re- 



Investigation. 


79 


source, which does not sometimes fail before 
the need of these helpless creatures. We 
wonder why they were born, and why they are 
here in the tumult of city life to be run over 
by the tide of busy feet. It seems to be the 
theory of some saintly souls that many people 
are created incapable, simply as a cross and 
ladder for martyrs into heaven; and, doubt¬ 
less, a few may remain for the edification 
and purification of their stronger-shouldered 
brethren; but experience shows this percent¬ 
age to be a very small one,— so small that, as 
our opportunities for observation widen, we 
come to believe that every human being can 
do something, if he have a chance, and is in¬ 
tended to fill some gap in the universal plan. 

In order to find this gap and to understand 
what a man can do who has fallen by the 
way and failed to find his proper place, we 
must first acquire some knowledge of his per¬ 
sonal and inherited character. 

Such knowledge can only be obtained by 
careful searching and inquiry by a skilful 
person. Volunteer committees may occasion¬ 
ally be able to do this; but we have only to 
see how difficult ladies usually find the busi¬ 
ness of obtaining proper knowledge of the 
servants they engage, to understand how 


v 


80 How to Help the Poor. 

unfit volunteers often are for this business. 
Miss Octavia Hill says: “ We cannot work 
wisely without full knowledge of the circum¬ 
stances of those to be dealt with,— hence, the 
necessity of investigation. ... A great deal of 
the preliminary work is quickly and well done 
by an experienced person, which it would be 
difficult for a volunteer to do; neither is it a 
sort of work which it is worth while for a 
volunteer to undertake. I refer to verifying 
statements as to residence, earnings, employ¬ 
ment, visiting references and employers. The 
finishing touches of investigation, the little 
personal facts, the desires and hopes, and, to 
a certain extent, the capacities of the appli¬ 
cant, no doubt a volunteer visitor could learn 
more thoroughly; but that can always be done 
separately from the preliminary and more 
formal inquiry.” 

The following little story will illustrate 
better the uses of investigation than can be 
done by any mere description of methods : — 

In describing the benefactions and perplex¬ 
ities of Mrs. X., the reader will remember 
that a paper was brought to her door by a 
man who had fallen down a hatchway some 
time before, and had been assisted by the 
mayor and other prominent citizens, who had 


Investigation. 


81 


given him a paper to show, with their names 
appended, and the amount of their subscrip¬ 
tions set down. 

Mrs. X. carried the name and address of 
this man to the agent of a district near his 
abode, and asked to have the case examined. 
It was found that the accident had occurred 
ten years previous to his application to her, 
and that he had become perfectly able to 
work; but the subscription method of exist¬ 
ence had proved so satisfactory that’ it was 
continued in preference to returning to hard 
work. 

None of the gentlemen who signed the 
paper in behalf of the supposed disabled man 
had ever looked into the case. When, at last, 
the visitor of the Associated Charities took the 
trouble to do so, the man was found totally 
unworthy. He had certainly injured himself 
at one time, but nobody had looked up the 
date, and the mayor who headed the paper 
had been out of office twelve years. 

Another history of a different character may 
also be of use in illustrating the necessity for 
close observation and scrutiny in order really 
to help the unfortunate to any permanent good. 

One of the appeals to Mrs. X., you remem¬ 
ber, was from a woman in Lowell who wished 


82 


How to Help the Poor. 


to have the interest paid on a mortgage. It 
was discovered, after a while, by a friend to 
whom she applied and who took the trouble 
to look into the subject, that the house was 
worth something above the mortgage, and it 
would be wiser to sell. One thousand dollars 
was the result of the sale, which money was 
invested in a small, comfortable dwelling suf¬ 
ficient for the woman and her children and 
one boarder. They had no debts, the boarder 
helped to pay running expenses, and the two 
eldest children began to earn something. By 
this timely care given to their business, the 
woman was not only rescued from the position 
of a beggar, and several hundred dollars thus 
saved every year, which she had begged for 
ten years regularly to pay the mortgage, but 
she was delivered from anxiety, and her chil¬ 
dren felt an honest pride in keeping an inde¬ 
pendent roof over their heads. 

In one of the first papers published in 
America upon a better way of helping the 
poor, wherein the methods so generally 
adopted since are admirably described by 
Mrs. Ames, she says: “ Wherein does our 
method differ from others whose machinery is 
much after the same pattern ? Chiefly in the 
spirit of its administration. ... It not only 



83 


Investigation. 

requires that every case shall be carefully 
investigated,— it makes that investigation the 
main feature in the proceedings; it creates for 
the community something equivalent to a court 
or tribunal, which puts each case on trial, looks 
up the evidence, and seeks to guide its de¬ 
cision by some intelligent principle of reason 
which has the moral force of law. It assumes 
that a request for help is not in itself a ground 
for bestowing it, any more than a complaint 
lodged in a Court of Common Pleas is ground 
for giving a verdict to the plaintiff. ... It is 
made certain that the amount of helpless de¬ 
pendence can constantly be lessened by the 
careful painstaking and judicial administration 
of local charity.” 

The result of failure to investigate is seen 
every day. The impossibility of finding good 
positions for persons who are not known, and 
the mistakes in placing those who are only 
half understood, sometimes makes us feel that 
knowledge of character underlies all success, 
and failure to obtain such knowledge is the 
best reason for want of success. 

In order to give some idea of the far-reach¬ 
ing nature of true investigation, the following 
history will be of interest: — 

One day, a lad about fifteen years old called 


\ 


8 4 


How to Help the Poor . 


at a gentleman’s office down town, asking for 
help to start in the business of selling news¬ 
papers. He was originally from England, but 
was just then recovering from a hurt in the 
heel received while running an elevator in 
Chicago. The gentleman, who was a believer 
in the endeavors and a visitor of the Asso¬ 
ciated Charities, asked one of the agents to 
investigate and report to him, when he would 
gladly give some assistance if it were thought 
wise. Letters were sent accordingly to Eng¬ 
land through the Charity Organization Society, 
as well as to Chicago and Philadelphia, the 
addresses in the latter cities being furnished 
by the lad himself. Meantime, another kind 
of employment was offered him, which he 
accepted; but he failed to appear at the ap¬ 
pointed time. Also, the address in Philadel¬ 
phia was a false one; but the record from 
Chicago was good, although it covered only 
the one month preceding his accident. From 
the London Charity Organization Society, we 
learned that the lad’s story was altogether 
untrue. He has a mania for running away 
and leading a vagrant life. In vain have his 
parents advertised for him. They are far from 
being dead, as he says, on the contrary, they 
wish to send money for his return to them. 


Investigation. 85 

They are respectable working-people, and full 
of grief because of their prodigal son. 

While we were waiting for these letters, the 
lad disappeared. He was heard of once, with 
his leg bound up, begging at a lady’s door, 
who gave him money. The police were no¬ 
tified as soon as we received the information; 
and it is to be hoped that the knowledge of 
his case will spread abroad widely enough to 
cause him to be brought into a better way of 
life. 

The plan of action agreed upon by the con¬ 
ference, into whose care the case fell, was as 
follows: The police were requested to arrest 
the boy as a vagrant, and hold him while the 
information should be sent to the office of 
that conference. An effort will then be made 
to have him placed, by the judge of the court, 
“ on probation,” until fitting employment may 
be found for him, either on a training ship, or 
by sending him to sea. His vagrant propen¬ 
sities seem to preclude the possibility of any 
success either in sending him home, which 
has already been tried, or finding employment 
for him on land. This case is at present un¬ 
finished, certainly; but the first step has been 
taken, by means of information obtained from 
his parents through the Charity Organization 


86 


How to Help the Poor. 


Society of London, for rescuing the lad from 
a life of continued deceit and crime. “The 
crime of begging,” as Edward Denison says, 
“does not consist in the mere solicitation of 
alms. The gist of the offence is the intention 
of preying upon society; and of this intent 
the asking alms is only evidence,— not proof.” 

In a valuable paper lately printed by Mrs. 
Lowell on the subject of “ Duties of Friendly 
Visitors,” she remarks : — 

One very important point for a visitor to aim at is 
to find out all about the man of the family, where there 
is one. Charities and charitable people are too prone 
to deal exclusively with the woman, accepting her state¬ 
ment that the man is looking for work. Now, perhaps 
he is, and perhaps he is not; but the facts should be 
fully established,— ist, that he has no work; 2d, that 
he would be glad to get it. The man and the woman 
should be seen and advised with together in regard to 
their present condition and future plans. Where there 
is a real desire to help themselves, the man will be 
ready to accept his proper place as head of the family, 
responsible for its support; and, where he keeps out of 
the way and lets his wife do the running and the beg¬ 
ging, the visitor may well suspect that all is not as it 
should be. 

This is excellent, but now and then we find 
the trouble lies in the other direction. 

Within the past six months, two cases have 
come before one committee where the incom- 


Investigation. 


87 


petence and inertness of the women have 
chiefly caused the degradation and shipwreck 
of their large families. 

The first is the case of a woman, her 
brother, and five children, who never asked 
any help, but who were found by a friendly 
visitor one day this spring while searching for 
another family. This company of seven per¬ 
sons had been almost entirely supported for 
many months by the labor of the two eldest 
children, fourteen and sixteen years old. 
Their clothes were worn out. The tenement 
where they lived was dark and dirty, and 
despair seemed to be settling down upon the 
place. It was discovered that the father had 
gone to the far West two or three years ago, 
and made a home there.. He earned the first 
year about two hundred dollars, which he sent 
to his wife, asking her to come to him and 
bring the children. Her mother was then 
living, who did not wish to go; therefore they 
spent the money, and lingered until in a few 
months the old woman died. He could not 
send any more money on account of plans 
he had made to prepare a comfortable home 
for their reception. A letter was sent west¬ 
ward immediately to corroborate the story. 
It was not only found to be true, but kind 


88 


How to Help the Poor. 


neighbors offered to send fifty dollars in 
order to bring out the two eldest children. 
Although this was clearly impossible, these 
children being the chief bread-winners for the 
family, an offer was made to raise the rest of 
the sum here, if the whole party could be re¬ 
ceived with reasonable hope of employment. 
After a brief delay, a good woman came from 
the West with the fifty dollars in her hand; 
the remainder was raised in Boston; and the 
party soon left with lunch-baskets and decent 
clothes, full of hope for this new life in the 
West. But the mother has been difficult to 
manage; and, except for the enthusiasm of 
the children, would have preferred to waste 
and languish in the poverty and filth of her 
miserable abode. Except for her fear and 
incompetence, the whole family might have 
gone with the two hundred dollars sent so 
long ago, and her poor children would have 
been spared much suffering and degradation. 

Very like this is the history of another 
family with a mother who was suddenly left a 
widow with nine children. They were becom¬ 
ing utterly dependent in the city; but a place 
was found for them in a factory town, where 
they had a clean, airy tenement (a beautiful 
contrast to their wretched abode in Boston), 


Investigation . 


89 


and, what was, for them, a large income. But 
the mother’s total incapacity either to cook a 
dinner or to buy it properly, or, what was far 
more important, to train her children, led 
them into debt. Suddenly, we heard, to our 
despair, that they had returned to Boston. 
Their going had given cause to hope for 
a good future for the children, and their 
benevolent friends rejoiced in giving them 
everything for their comfort which could be 
thought of. Therefore, to find them once 
more crowded into a wretched hole at the 
North End and asking alms was indeed a 
disappointment. 

A council was held upon the case; and it 
was decided that the only hope was in a 
factory town, and that we must send them off 
again elsewhere. But how to do it? They 
could not absolutely be compelled : therefore, 
what measures could be adopted ? We found 
there were two reasons for their wishing to re¬ 
main in the city: first, the eldest girl, who was 
getting beyond all restraint, wished to be in 
town; second, the mother thought she could 
get relief from public and private sources. 
These, then, were the two points of attack; 
and it was thought well to try both at once. 
A wise, sweet woman, who has a gift for in- 


90 How to Help the Poor. 

fluencing young girls, was persuaded to try 
the first. At the same moment, all the relief 
societies were asked to withhold assistance, 
in spite of the fact that the family really was 
hungry. The generous visitor who had in 
previous years exhausted her substance upon 
this family was told that it was not necessary 
to visit them again just then, because we 
hoped to get them off shortly, and we would 
gladly call upon her for assistance, if any were 
required, but it seemed better that none should 
be given just then. 

The result was unexpectedly successful. 
The kind friend who had taken the girl in 
hand was surprised at finding her at last 
amenable to her advice; and, in a week or 
two, the family was once more on the road,— 
this time outside the State lines,— and we 
hear that they are doing well. They pleaded 
for clothes and comforts for this their second 
journey; but we were afraid to trust them, and 
they went in their old clothes. The result is 
better than we feared. Every day they seem 
to be improving. The clergyman of the town, 
who was written to by the girl’s friend, goes 
to see them, and is satisfied with their con¬ 
dition. 

These stories, drawn from late experience, 


Investigation. 


9 1 

illustrate what I have hinted at before,— that 
volunteer service is what we live by. We 
cannot, of course, get on in this work of in¬ 
vestigation without some person whose busi¬ 
ness it is to be found regularly at certain 
hours, and upon whom we may all depend, 
because volunteer service must be interrupted 
service; but oftentimes, in making inquiries, 
the appeals of some one who is not known to 
have any business connection with any organ¬ 
ization are of very great value, and will have 
far more influence than agents’ letters. 

How shall we increase this valuable volun¬ 
teer service ? “ We are all members of one 

body working together,” and a devoted agent 
said only a short time ago: “ Pray make the 
visitors understand that, do the best I can, 
I may easily be mistaken; and I feel myself 
very dependent upon their impressions.” 






VII. 

INTEMPERANCE. 

“ Tender pity for the poor has been a grow¬ 
ing characteristic of this age. A better sign 
of it still is the increased sense of duty to 
them, not only as poor men, but as men. 
There needs, however, it appears to me, some¬ 
thing still, before our charity shall be effectual 
for good. The feeling is there, the conscience 
is there ; but there is wanting the wise thought 
and the resolute because educated will.” 

We have seen a degraded population in¬ 
crease year by year in our American cities. 
We have seen drunkenness decrease among 
our well-to-do people, and fall into a contempt 
unknown in the past century; but among the 
unprotected classes it has greatly increased, 
together with illiteracy and other evils, and 
yet we have continued to give broken food 
and “charity sewing” to our poor, and have 
felt that we have done what we could. In 
short, we have received the children of pau- 


Intemperance. 


93 


perized Europe into our open arms, and have 
wondered at first, then felt ourselves repelled, 
by the sad issue of our careless hospitality. 
Drunkenness is the root of a very large pro¬ 
portion of the suffering of the poor in the 
cities of America. Therefore, this i£ the chief 
problem with which the volunteer visitor as 
well as the political economist must deal. It 
is of no use to say, “ I will have nothing to do 
with ‘drunken cases,’” because here lies the 
ground of misery and of our labor. If 
“ drunken cases ” are to be excepted in any 
district, there can be no work of any moment 
done for the poor of that locality. 

On the contrary, the visitor’s motto should 
be, “ Never give a family up.” If the father 
drinks irrevocably, and will not support his 
family, he should be sentenced upon the vis¬ 
itor’s testimony, and sent to some institution 
where he will be obliged to work. His wife 
may then be better able to do something for 
the support of the family. If the children are 
grown, they can assist her. If they are very 
young, they can be put into day-nurseries and 
kindergartens while she is at work, and return 
to her at night. 

If the mother drinks, and cannot be influ¬ 
enced to reform, it will be far better for the 


94 How to Help the Poor. 

children that she should be sent to the Re¬ 
formatory at Sherburne (if she live in Bos¬ 
ton), the visitor being willing to bear witness 
to what is known to be for the ultimate good 
of the family. If the father is dead or incapa¬ 
ble of caring for his children, they may then 
be taken into “guardianship and custody” of 
the visitor or some other friend, and afterward 
placed out. Nevertheless, visitors continue to 
ask in these puzzling cases: “ What can we 
do ? Suppose the mother is respectable and 
intelligent, far above the average: can we let 
her and the six children suffer ? ” 

Certainly, these sorrowful cases make us 
pause. There is great danger in yielding. If 
we clothe the children and give them food 
one day, the father will feel the situation less 
than before; and, unless we think best to sup¬ 
port the family entirely, they will only sink 
lower as soon as our attention is engaged 
elsewhere. Something can be done, however; 
and much depends upon the visitor. The 
statutes of Massachusetts make it incumbent 
that a man should support his family. There¬ 
fore, we may call the arm of the law to assist 
us. A complaint to the police will sometimes 
do good, even if we go no farther; and, if we 
combine with such measures all the healthy 






Intemperance. 


95 


and kindly influences we know, the whole cur¬ 
rent of affairs in that household may be grad¬ 
ually changed for the better. 

We cannot afford either to fear or despise 
any labor in behalf of temperance. The evil 
runs too deep. 

It is one of the visitor’s duties to strive to 
enforce the laws of Massachusetts upon this 
question. The judge of the district may be 
asked to listen to the case and advise; the 
police of the district will assist, if requested, 
by keeping watch and threatening arrest; the 
truant officers will look in and see that the 
children are kept at school; and the visitor 
may meanwhile, by friendly oversight, interest 
the man in some club or friendly evening 
resort, where he will be withdrawn more or 
less from temptation. If he is too far gone 
and a slave to drink and, humanly speaking, 
incapable of reform, he must then be com¬ 
mitted on long sentence to some institution. 
Such cases cannot be settled in a day nor in 
a year ; but they are, perhaps, the most impor¬ 
tant branch of our labor: certainly, they are 
the most puzzling and difficult part of it. 

“ !tIow many women,” I asked a friend who 
conducted me lately over the Reformatory for 
women at Sherburne, “were sent here for 


9 6 


How to Help the Poor. 


drunkenness ? ” “ Directly or indirectly, it has 
been the cause of nearly all the commit¬ 
ments,” was the reply. “ There are very few 
exceptions.” It has been estimated that nine- 
tenths of the city poor who ask public relief 
have fallen into pauperism from the same 
cause. Let us accept our burden of work, 
therefore, with our eyes open and with hands 
willing to struggle with this evil. 

It is not encouraging work in the present 
condition of our license law; but, even when 
all is done that law can do, there will still be 
no restraining force to compare with that of 
public opinion and a recognition of the divine 
law planted in the heart of men. Much re¬ 
mains to be done by visitors among the poor 
(who are beginning to create public opinion), 
by the knowledge they obtain daily. Mr. 
James H. Dormer, of Buffalo, writes: “Bishop 
Ireland, one of the most earnest, practical, 
and beautiful characters that ever formally 
identified himself with the temperance cause, 
has said: — 

What is at once practicable and would be most ser¬ 
viceable in diminishing the evils of intemperance is to 
demand of liquor-sellers high license fees. There are 
two grounds upon which we base our plea for high 
license. One is the economic ground. If a traffic of 


Intemperance. 


97 


any kind puts unusual impediments in the wheels of 
government, State or municipal, and increases to an 
inordinate degree its expenses, the traffic should be 
made to bear its due proportion of those expenses. 
Before saloon-keepers have reason to complain of injus¬ 
tice or harsh treatment, they should be made to pay 
over three-fourths of all sums spent annually in main¬ 
taining police forces, criminal courts, jails, and public 
charities. In allowing them to pay but trifles of those 
sums, the State or city is guilty of deep injustice toward 
the sober citizen, who is taxed to repair the harm in¬ 
flicted by liquor upon society. The second ground for 
high license is the moral consideration that it is the 
duty of the government to prevent as well as to punish 
wrong-doing, when no principle is violated by such pre¬ 
vention, and to put restrictions upon a traffic which is 
dangerous to public morals. Saloons are numerous 
beyond all justification, and in most cases are in the 
hands of reckless individuals. High license will reduce 
the number. Not many who would be candidates for a 
bar could pay $1,000 or $500 ; nor would the wholesale 
dealer be anxious, as he is now, to advance the license 
fee. High license would drive saloons from the out¬ 
lying districts into the more central portions of the city, 
where police control is more effective. It would end 
the unholy alliance between groceries and liquor, and 
the poor laborer or his wife could buy a pound of tea 
or sugar without being invited to buy also a glass of 
whiskey or beer. The impecunious fellows, ashamed 
to beg and too idle to work, willing, however, to sell 
whiskey, are often the men most careless of conse¬ 
quences : their idea is to make money. They would be 
kept out of the business. A salutary fear would rest 
upon all liquor-dealers of violating city ordinances, 


How to Help the Poor. 


98 

lest they lose their license, which has some value when 
it costs $500 or $1,000. Nor would so many drink, if 
we had high license. There are men who will seek out 
whiskey or beer wherever it is, and pay any money for 
it. There are many others, however, who will not 
drink, when temptation is not thrust upon them. The 
poor workingman, after his day’s work, will not walk 
several blocks to find a saloon. If it is next door, and 
the selfish keeper, envying the dollar he has earned so 
hard, invites him with a sickly smile and a shake of his 
clammy hand to cross its threshold, the poor man will 
yield and get drunk. Diminish the saloons, and you 
diminish the number of drinkers. A low license fee is 
an open encouragement to the indefinite and irrespon¬ 
sible multiplication of rum-holes in every street and in 
every block of our cities. 

Canon Farrar, in speaking of the effect of 
drunkenness upon the lives of children, enu¬ 
merates nine results, one only more terrible 
than the last. The passage reads briefly as 
follows: — 

“ 1 st. They are exposed to shameful neg¬ 
lect. . . . 

“ 2d. To horrible accidents. . . . 

“3d. To cruelty. . . . A week ago, a drunken 
woman is seen holding a child of five months 
by the legs. When remonstrated with, she 
flings the child on the pavement, and runs 
away. 

“ 4th. Not only to cruelty, but to death. A 


Intemperance. 


99 


fortnight ago, a child is found burned and 
scalded to death, because the drunken woman 
in charge of it falls against a fireplace. . . . 

“ 5 th. They are exposed to dreadful congeni¬ 
tal sickness. The author of John. Halifax 
writes, after a visit to the East London Hospital 
for Children : 1 The nurse said, “ These are our 
worst and most painful cases.” One felt in 
going through this ward that death was better 
than life.’ 

“ 6th. They are exposed also to murder. . . . 

“7th. And to unconscious suicide. In the joy 
of men this last Christmas, a child of three 
gets out of bed, drinks some whiskey left on 
the table, and in the morning is found dead. 

“ 8th. They are exposed to something still 
worse,— that is, sin. . . . How often are the 
children of the drunkard trained in sin! . ... 

“9th. Lastly, how fearful is the lot of the 
drunkard’s children from the fearful taint in 
the blood, the awful hereditary craving !” . . . 

“With regard to the connection between 
intemperance and lunacy,” writes Mr. Francis 
Peek, “the most eminent doctors connected 
with lunatic asylums put down at least twenty 
per cent, of the cases treated by them to 
intemperance.” . . . 

Mr. Peek continues : “ If there be one duty 


ioo How to Help the Poor . 

which is universally acknowledged as more 
incumbent than another on the governing 
power in a State, it is the duty of providing 
protection for the citizens. ... In what way, 
then, can State action be taken with the best 
chance of success ? ... It is fairly proved that 
undue facilities for obtaining strong drink, 
involving those numberless inducements which 
competition compels dealers to offer in the 
shape of amusements, etc., are the greatest 
cause of national intemperance; that, where 
there are no drinking places, there is scarcely 
any intemperance at all; that, where there are 
few, there is very little ; and that, where these 
facilities have been reduced, a corresponding 
decrease in intemperance has taken place. 
It is in evidence that where a public house 
has been introduced into a hitherto sober 
community, where none had before existed, 
drunkenness has followed. It is to the dimi¬ 
nution of drinking facilities, and the discour¬ 
agement of liquors of high alcoholic strength, 
that we must chiefly look for any improve¬ 
ment in this matter. . . . 

“ Every inducement is required for redoubled 
efforts to enlighten public opinion. . . . Every 
Band of Hope formed is a gain.. .. The battle 
must be won by degrees, by steady persistence 


Intemperance . 


IOI 


and patient endeavor, by bringing public opin¬ 
ion to approve each step attained.” . . . 

I promised in the earlier pages of this little 
book to refer again to the effect produced by 
Mrs. X.’s gift to a well-known relief society. 
Application had been made at the office of 
that society by Mary Conolly, a good-looking 
Irishwoman, for shoes and coal. She had 
three little children, and her husband had 
been out of work several weeks. The busy 
visitor, who not infrequently makes twenty 
visits a day, looked in upon the family at ten 
o’clock in the morning. He found the mother 
sleepy and uncombed, the room cold, the three 
children guiltless of face-washing, the room 
rather cleaner than the worst, however, but 
the man still asleep in bed in an adjoining 
room. “ Poor man ! ” Mary said. “ He was 
looking for work all day, it being very scarce 
now; and he had taken cold, which made his 
legs stiff.” The eldest boy had just come in 
with a basket of cinders and some chips to 
make a fire. They were in debt for rent, they 
all needed shoes, and “ Whatever we shall do 
if Mike don’t find work soon I don’t know. 
I ain’t used to livin’ so.” And indeed it 
seemed as if she were not. So the visitor 
withdrew, marked it a worthy case, sent five 


102 How to Help the Poor . 

dollars’ worth of coal and shoes, and heard. 
nothing more of the family until the next sea¬ 
son, when the woman returned, representing 
still greater need, because there was another 
baby and work had been more scarce than 
ever. 

It is hardly reasonable to expect a woman 
with three young children and a healthy hus¬ 
band to go to work, in order to get money for 
their support. Indeed, it is far from desirable. 
The best the visitor can do is to leave word 
for the man to come to see him, making an 
early appointment. Even in the hardest sea¬ 
sons, it is possible to get more or less work for 
men who are willing. Meanwhile, hard as it 
may seem, “ relief ” must absolutely be with¬ 
held as a general rule. If the man finds that 
the truant officer will get shoes for his chil¬ 
dren and societies will send him coal and he 
can get broken food at ten cents a day from 
hotels, which is sufficient to nourish his fam¬ 
ily, he will not make the same exertion to get 
and keep employment, and saving will be 
altogether out of his calculation ; but, if his 
children are kept in the public schools less 
well clothed than other children, if he finds 
the room cold and the table bare when he 
goes home, his pride and comfort will both be 


Intemperance. 


103 


at stake, and, if the man be not sunk too low, 
these motives will be found strong levers for 
his regeneration. 

Either something can be done to bring a 
man to his senses and give him a chance once 
more to face the world as an honest man 
should, or, if all available means fail to re¬ 
store him, he must be put away where he will 
no longer continue to contaminate society. 
Something is to be done in either case. 

The man can be put to- work, and by kind¬ 
ness, personal influence, opportunity, reform 
clubs, combined with watchfulness of the 
police and truant officers, can be kept in 
order, or he cannot; and, in the latter case, he 
should not be suffered to lie in his bed by 
day and contaminate the community by night, 
but he should be brought under the penalty of 
the laws of the Commonwealth. This-last work 
is usually considered as outside of the pale of 
charity work, but it is as much a part of it 
and as great a necessity as any other part. 
It cannot be left to the police altogether to do 
this. The visitor is often needed to make the 
complaint or to appear as witness. Who 
should know better than such a friend the 
suffering caused to a little family by the 
father’s sins and self-indulgence ? Who can 


104 How t° Help the Poor. 

be so well qualified to speak in their behalf ? 
I have in mind such a family at this mo¬ 
ment, where the priest performed this benevo¬ 
lent office with the assistance of the truant 
officer. The father and mother both drank, 
and the children were neglected. Both par* 
ents were shut up in separate institutions and 
the children taken away from them; but, after 
two months, they were suffered to have home 
and children again. The result has been sat¬ 
isfactory. The man is at work all day, the 
woman at home, their debts are paid, their 
rooms are decent; and the wholesome fear 
which hangs over them in case of failure, 
combined with the unceasing kindness and 
attention of the priest, have thus far kept them 
from falling. 

It would be far from impossible to give 
many touching and interesting stories in this 
place of what has been effected by the per¬ 
sonal influence of good men and women over 
those who are weak and subject to temptation; 
but the private nature of such work, as well as 
lack of space, must prevent. I know a certain 
Captain of our Police who has saved at least 
one man, not by the force of the law, but by 
exercising his private influence alone. The 
man in question had brought his family to 


Intemperance. 


io 5 

starvation, and he was in a condition to be 
arrested; but he is now a respected and self- 
respecting carpenter, his family restored to 
their comfortable home. 

A lady who had striven patiently, but, as it 
seemed, unsuccessfully, with many cases of 
intemperance, lost no courage, but helped a 
man who still continued to drink at intervals, 
until she feared she might be doing harm 
rather than good by her renewed forgiveness 
of his broken promises. The period arrived 
when she saw that further help should be 
withdrawn; and before a solemn company 
gathered “ in an upper chamber ” prayers were 
offered for his future, and he was told that, in 
justice to others, nothing further could be 
done for him. He was a man above the lower 
classes of the poor; but he had sold his 
clothes, and had crept in to the back of the 
room in the wretched overalls provided in lieu 
of clothes by the refuge where he had found 
shelter. When all was silent, he asked to be 
heard; and, kneeling there, he thanked God 
for these friends who had been so patient 
with him. His own family had long felt they 
could have no influence over him. Then, 
he besought our Father in heaven to give 
him strength to resist temptation. He had 


106 How to Help the Poor. 

tried again and again. Would not the Infinite 
God help to save him, when all earthly hope 
seemed withdrawn ? Perfect silence and the 
raining down of tears followed his sorrowful 
figure as he withdrew, and the patient woman 
who continued to be his friend determined 
still to endeavor to sustain him in his new re¬ 
solve. He was no longer young, the habit 
was an old one; but from that moment, which 
is now three years ago, he has been perfectly 
sober, is restored to his position and his fam¬ 
ily, and this dark valley is to the world as if 
it had never been. 


VIII. 


VISITORS AND VISITED. 

“ You probably all know,” writes Miss 
Octavia Hill, “that dirt disappears gradually 
in places that cleanly people go in and out of 
frequently.” 

One of the first duties of a visitor is to use 
the senses in entering a tenement house. The 
laws of the city of Boston are very clear about 
the care which must be taken in order to pre¬ 
serve the public health and public decency, 
and the officers of the Board of Health are 
courteous and attentive in listening to and fol¬ 
lowing up suggestions. We wish all persons 
assuming the responsibility of visitors would 
recognize that it is a part of their duty to give 
a report concerning the condition of the houses 
they enter. The following extracts from the 
Statutes show how great a reform we can bring 
about by faithful reporting, accompanied by a 
personal request that the law shall be en¬ 
forced : — 

8. The board or the health officer shall order the 
owner or occupant at his own expense to remove any 


io8 


How to Help the Poor. 


nuisance, source of filth, or cause of sickness, found on 
private property, within twenty-four hours. . . . 

io. If the owner or occupant fails to comply with 
such order, the board may cause the nuisance, source 
of filth, or cause of sickness to be removed; and all 
. expenses incurred thereby shall be paid by the owner, 
i occupant, or other person who caused or permitted the 
same, if he has had actual notice from the board of 
health of the existence thereof. . . . 

109. Every tenement or lodging house shall have in 
every room which is occupied as a sleeping-room, and 
which does not communicate directly with the external 
air, a ventilating or transom window. Every such 
house or building shall have in the roof, at the top of 
the hall, an adequate and proper ventilator, of a form 
approved by the inspector of buildings. 

no. Every such house shall be provided with a 
proper fire-escape, or means of escape in case of fire, 
to be approved by the inspector of buildings. 

in. The roof of every such house shall be kept in 
good repair and so as not to leak; and all rain-water 
shall be so drained or conveyed therefrom as to pre¬ 
vent its dripping on ground or causing dampness in the 
walls, yard, or area. All stairs shall be provided with 
proper balusters or railings , and shall be kept in good 
repair. 

112. Every such building shall be provided with 
good and sufficient water-closets, earth-closets, or priv¬ 
ies, of a construction approved by the inspector of 
buildings, and shall have proper doors, traps, soil-pans, 
and other suitable works and arrangements, so far as 
may be necessary, to insure the efficient operation 
thereof. It shall not be lawful, without a permit from 
the board of health or superintendent of health, to let or 


Visitors and Visited,. 


109 

occupy, or suffer to be occupied separately as a dwell¬ 
ing, any vaults, cellar, or underground room. . . . The 
owner or keeper of any lodging-house, and the owner 
or lessee of any tenement house or part thereof, shall 
whitewash the walls and ceilings thereof twice at least 
every year , in the months of April and October, unless 
the said board shall otherwise direct. Every tenement 
or lodging-house shall have legibly posted or painted on 
the wall or door in the entry , or some public accessible 
place , the name and address of the owner or owners and of 
the agent or agents , or any one having charge of the 
renting and collecting of the rents for the same. . .. 

These extracts from the laws may be found 
in a little pamphlet printed by the Board of 
Health and perfectly accessible. From these 
brief quotations, it will be seen how large a 
power the visitor possesses. Contrast for a 
moment what may be done with what is done, 
and no one can fail to see great possibilities 
of improvement. If walls and ceilings must 
be whitewashed twice in the year, why do we 
find them so black ? If balusters and railings 
must be kept in repair, why do we climb up 
uneven stairs by a broken rail ? If there must 
always be a ventilating or transom window 
leading to the outer air, why do we stifle 
among smells too bad to remember? The 
answer is easy. There has been no one to 
complain. Landlords are apt to let things 


no How to Help the Poor. 

alone as long as they can, and these evils have 
grown to be what they are by the visitor’s 
default. 

We pray the friends of the poor to remem¬ 
ber this. Helen Campbell says : “ In one 
tenement house in New York, seven hundred 
and fifty people were so packed that each fam¬ 
ily had a living space of but ten feet by 
eleven. The Chinese quarter of San Fran¬ 
cisco shows nothing worse. ... In 1870, an 
Act of Parliament demolished ten thousand 
houses in Glasgow, and within two years a 
marked change in health returns, prevention 
of crime, and arrest and conviction of offenders 
was the result.... It is in the tenement houses 
that we must seek for the mass of the poor. 
And it is in the tenement houses that we find 
the causes which, combined, are making of 
the generation now coming up a terror in the 
present and a promise of future evil beyond 
man’s power to reckon. They are a class 
apart, retaining all the most brutal character¬ 
istics of the Irish peasant at home, but with¬ 
out the redeeming light-heartedness, the ten¬ 
der impulses, and strong affections of that 
most perplexing people. . . . 

“ There are many houses with every plank in 
them steeped in sin and misery. Law should 


Visitors and Visited. 


hi 


be strong enough to order their destruction. 
. . . We think the time of coarse, brutal sin¬ 
ning is over, and that our charities, our great 
hospitals, our missions here and there, set us 
apart from and beyond any century that has 
gone before. We wonder why pauperism has 
become a profession; and we build stately 
asylums for our idiots and insane and crippled, 
while we allow thousands of hot-beds for the 
production of such species to do their work 
under our very eyes. If it goes on at the 
present rate, ten asylums must rise where one 
stands now, and State taxes double and treble 
to cover the cost per head of what one might 
judge to be a personal luxury, each tax-payer 
requiring his special pauper or idiot, as kings 
once had their own particular fool. 

“ Foul air and overcrowding would, however, 
be less fatal in its results, were food under¬ 
stood. The well-filled stomach gives strange 
powers of resistance to the body. . . . Happily, 
to know an evil is to have taken the first step 
in its eradication. ... To have made cooking 
and industrial training the fashion, is to have 
cleared away the thorny underbrush on that 
debatable ground, the best education of the 
poor. . .. That cooking schools and the knowl¬ 
edge of cheap and savory preparation of food 


112 How to Help the Poor. 

must soon have their effect on the percentage 
of drunkards no one can question. Philan¬ 
thropists may urge what reforms they will,— 
less crowding, purer air, better sanitary regu¬ 
lations,— but this question of food underlies 
all. The knowledge that is broad enough to 
insure good food is broad enough to mean 
better living in all ways. . . . Such work must 
be done from within, out. Methods which 
touch merely the outside are but of temporary 
service. One woman who has learned in any 
degree to order her own home and life aright 
will be more a power with those among whom 
that life passes than a dozen average preach¬ 
ers ; and, if the rich would trust less to indis¬ 
criminate giving and more to the work of 
some accredited agent of this description, 
they would find double the result for every 
investment. 

“ How to make even the smallest home clean 
and attractive, and to get the largest return 
from every dollar earned, is a knowledge that 
means physical salvation, and thus a better 
prospect for understanding the spiritual. . . . 
The training school is even more important 
than the public school, and industrial educa¬ 
tion the only solution of the incompetence 
and well-nigh hopeless inefficiency of the 
poorer classes. 


Visitors and Visited. 


IJ 3 

“They are with us. The burden is ours, 
and cannot be cast aside. It remains with us 
to train them into decent members of society, 
or to fold our hands and let the crowd of 
imbeciles and drunkards and criminals and 
lunatics increase year by year, till suddenly 
some frightful social convulsion opens the 
eyes that have refused to see, and disaster 
brings about what moderate effort could long 
before have accomplished.” 

There are hundreds of tenement houses in 
every poor ward of Boston, where the evils of 
pauperized Europe seem to be fostered by 
transplanting. Something more can be done 
by a better fulfilling of the laws and closer 
official oversight. Nothing, however, can com¬ 
pare with the influence of a friend who is also 
landlord or landlady, enforcing extreme punc¬ 
tuality in the payment of rents and proper 
care of the apartments rented. “ When a 
tenant is out of work, instead of reducing his 
energy by any gifts of money, we simply, 
whenever the funds at our disposal allow it, 
employ him in restoring and purifying the 
hguses. . . . The same cheering and encourag¬ 
ing sort of influence, though in a less degree, 
is exercised by our plan of having a little 
band of scrubbers. We have each passage 


How to Help the Poor. 


114 

scrubbed twice a week by one of the elder 
girls. The sixpence thus earned is a stimulus, 
and they often take an extreme interest in the 
work itself. . . . 

“ Among the many benefits which the posses¬ 
sion of the houses enables us to confer on the 
people, perhaps the most important is our 
power of saving them from neighbors who 
would render their lives miserable. It is a 
most merciful thing to protect the poor from 
the pain of living in the next room to drunken, 
disorderly people. ‘ I am dying,’ said an old 
woman to me the other day. ‘I wish you 
would put me where I can’t hear S. beating 
his wife.’... Occasionally, we come upon people 
whose lives are so good and sincere it is only 
by such services and the sense of our friend¬ 
ship that we can help them at all. In all im¬ 
portant things, they do not need our teaching, 
while we may learn much from them.” 

For the assistance of the visitor who can 
give only a small portion of time to the work, 
a sheet has been printed asking to have cer¬ 
tain simple questions answered relating to the 
condition of the house or houses where the 
people live who are visited. The little paper 
may be found at the office of the Associated 
Charities in Boston. 


Visitors and Visited\ 


“5 

In considering the need of destroying cer¬ 
tain dwellings altogether, we find that Mr. 
Charles Spencer, of Philadelphia, has lately 
said: — 


If the question be asked, What has become of the 
wretched people, have they been driven into other dis¬ 
tricts, or has their manner of life been improved corre¬ 
spondingly with the better accommodations supplied? 
we answer that we have not learned that the bettering 
of Bedford Street has made any other district worse; 
but, on the contrary, since the people have been scat¬ 
tered, we have known in some happy instances of those 
who have been forced to leave, driven out from dens of 
vice, and having settled in less noxious localities, be¬ 
coming industrious and respectable citizens. 

Mr. Theodore Starr thus speaks of what he 
believes to be a reasonably successful en¬ 
deavor to come into contact with the laboring 
poor as their landlord, and by fair treatment, 
by a consideration of their needs, and by 
insisting upon a faithful performance of their 
obligations, to gain an influence over them 
which, it was hoped, might lead to much physi¬ 
cal, moral, and spiritual improvement of their 
condition. The basis of the experiment was 
a purely business one, and its object was two¬ 
fold:— 

i. Could houses of a reasonable size, rented 
at such a rate as to induce the laboring man 


n6 How to Help the Poor. 

to use them, be made to return a fair interest 
to the owner ? 

2. Could the slums of the city be redeemed 
to decent living, if decent houses were built 
and owned by decent people, and rented to 
decent laboring men ? 

“I should like to emphasize,” he writes, 
“ the character of the opposition to the work of 
regeneration. It arises from three sources,— 
the old style of property owners, the rum- 
seller, and the ward politician. So long as 
the work is that of simply visiting the poor 
and relieving such cases as seem to need help, 
the visitor is unmolested and arouses no oppo¬ 
sition; but let one blow, however feeble , be 
struck at the root of the matter, arid at once a 
coalition is formed to obstruct the work. ... He 
who enlists in this war for the regeneration of 
the slums must do so in the face of bitter 
opposition, deep discouragement, and oft- 
repeated disappointment, for indeed he ‘ wres¬ 
tles against principalities, against powers, 
against the rulers of the darkness of this 
world, against spiritual wickedness in high 
places.’ Nevertheless, if he will but persevere 
in the right methods to the end, his effort 
cannot fail to be crowned with an enduring 
success.” 



Visitors and Visited. 


ZI 7 

One of the earliest and most important 
topics which should engage the attention of 
the visitor is that of helping people to save. 
In Newport, this branch of work has been 
made a specialty, the peculiar circumstances 
of so large a watering-place rendering it a 
question of prime importance. The commit¬ 
tee began in the spring of 1880 to warn their 
poor friends that they would not be allowed to 
receive public relief the following winter, and 
that, unless they meant to suffer, they must lay 
up something in summer for the winter’s wants. 
The plan adopted is simple in its details, and 
is given in full in their report for the benefit 
of those who wish to follow it. It is unusual, 
even in these days of good work, to see any 
plan followed quite so closely and carefully by 
a company of visitors; and the result is a suc¬ 
cess beyond all anticipation. Surely, if our 
workers everywhere would read this report, the 
methods would be much more widely adopted. 
In conclusion, the secretary writes : — 

We are ready to say, however, that having educated 
our people (or some of them) into the practice of 
saving, our wish is to see them strong enough to turn 
the practice into a habit, and to do without our help. 
For this reason, we look with great satisfaction on the 
prospect of post-office savings banks, which will make 
the matter easy for them; and more than a year ago we 


n8 How to Help the Poor. 

signed a petition to the Postmaster-General for the 
establishment of such banks. 

“ Saving is like spending,” writes Mrs. Ames, 

“ more and more easy the longer it is prac¬ 
tised. It is also a conservative moral habit 
which helps to set in order the whole life. It 
is a great gain when these people are once 
aroused to the fact that they can save.” 

Trouble of any kind, and especially any 
misfortune which has a tendency to lower a 
person in the social scale, drives people into 
solitude. Edward Denison wrote, “ How 
many thousands of paupers have lived and 
died and been buried at the public expense, 
whom a little friendly advice, a little search 
for friends or relatives, some pains taken to 
find proper work, when the first application 
to the Board was made, would have lifted out 
of the mire and set on the rock of honest 
industry.” Many of the poor who most 
deeply need visitors are lonely persons, and * 
the fact of finding a friend at last is encour¬ 
agement to them and a beginning of better 
tijnes. The influence of clubs, unions, asso¬ 
ciations, meetings for discussion, is often very 
beneficial. Men whose homes are uncomfort¬ 
able are helped over many a hard hour by 
being allowed to go to a reading-room or 


Visitors and Visited. 119 

good place of resort. There are so many 
bad places to go to that the sooner the visitor 
can put a half-discouraged man into relation 
to an organization worth joining the better 
chance there will be of his improvement. 

In an admirable little English book, by 
Ellice Hopkins, called Work among Working¬ 
men, we read: “One thing at least is certain. 
The public house, in some form or other, is 
a necessity. . . . However domestic a man may 
be, he requires the society of his fellows, he 
needs some place where he can see the 
papers, and where he can talk trade and 
politics. . . . The club house is an absolute 
necessity to workingmen. . . . Practically, it 
seems to be constantly overlooked that the 
old tavern bore precisely the same fruits in 
the well-to-do class as it is now bearing in the 
lower classes; and not till the club took the 
place of the tavern did a better state of public 
opinion arise, and a consequent diminution 
of drunkenness. . . . Should we not meet with 
more success, if we were steadily to recognize 
that the club, with its absence of vicious self- 
interest enlisted in the drink traffic, with its 
esprit de corps and its character to sustain, 
does present, both positively and negatively, 
the necessary moral influences to control the 


120 How to Help the Poor . 

use of intoxicants, or to dispense with them 
altogether, as may be thought best; and if, 
while still endeavoring to procure an amend¬ 
ment of our licensing laws, we were to throw 
our chief energies into getting the club sub¬ 
stituted for the public house ? 

“‘Why not advocate the establishment of 
coffee-palaces which are open to all ? ’ some 
one will ask. ‘ Why restrict it to the members 
of a club ? ’ 

“ Coffee-palaces are admirable things, and 
I advocate their being multiplied tenfold in 
every large town. They will do much to 
educate everybody out of our present ridicu¬ 
lous dependence on alcoholic drinks, as if 
they were the necessary concomitant of every 
social and kindly feeling. ... As a rule, how¬ 
ever, workingmen do not use them as an 
evening resort, for the simple reason that 
they do not afford quiet, separate rooms where 
they can feel at home, and where they can 
smoke their pipes and do as they like. And 
I would earnestly point out, it is the evening 
resort that must ever be the stronghold of 
drunkenness. . . . Even in those rare cases 
where the upper premises of a coffee-palace 
are let off for the exclusive use of a working¬ 
men’s club, there is the great disadvantage 


Visitors and Visited. 


121 


of the club being forced to adopt total absti¬ 
nence principles, whether they wish it or not, 
since intoxicants are not allowed on the 
premises. In the case of voluntary teetotal¬ 
ers, this would lead to no evil; but, with 
those who are not, it leads to their going else¬ 
where to get the glass of beer they cannot 
procure at their club. And I would again 
urge that you should never attack drunkenness 
in the mass on principles of total abstinence. 
. . . Why do we expect of workingmen a self- 
denial which, in the mass, we do not practise 
ourselves ? . . . When you admit intoxicants, 
you must also secure a moral element, the 
social esprit de corps of a well-organized club, 
to control them. The admission of beer into 
coffee-palaces would, I fear, generate the old 
abuses over again.” 

“The workingman’s home,” writes Edward 
Denison again, “in great towns is such that 
he cannot there give himself either to study 
or recreation. He must have a club; and, till 
every head of a family belongs to a club, 
there is not much hope of the poorer artisans 
improving their condition.” Women and chil¬ 
dren, too, should be introduced into the 
schools and classes working everywhere for 
their education, physical, moral, and religious. 


122 How to Help the Poor. 

They need to be persuaded to take the first 
step; but, this difficult point once passed, they 
are willing to make a good deal of effort to 
hold the places they have gained. 

The old method of working for the poor 
always left the man in the swamp, but threw 
him biscuits to keep him from starving. By 
means of throwing him biscuits enough, he 
managed to make the oozy place appear to 
himself soft and even comfortable. • The new 
method is to throw him a plank. He cannot 
eat or drink the plank, but he can scramble 
out upon it, and have his share of the labors 
and rewards which the experience of life 
brings both to high and low. 

“ The supreme need is to give not only our 
dollars, but ourselves, and to learn the busi¬ 
ness.” 

The noble duty of caring for the sick poor 
is one which has been omitted from these 
pages, because of the importance of the sub¬ 
ject and the fact that it is too often considered 
altogether as a specialty; but there are cer¬ 
tain things which every woman should know, 
and which, if she visits without knowing, she 
cannot fulfil all her duty. Miss Nightingale 
writes as follows regarding the success to be 
attained by nurses who serve the sick poor: — 


Visitors and Visited. 


123 


As to your success ? What is not your success ? 
To raise the homes of your patients, so that they never 
fall back again to dirt and disorder,— such is your 
nurses’ influence. To pull through life and death 
cases,— cases which it would be an honor to pull 
through with all the appurtenances of hospitals, or of 
the richest of the land,— and this without any appurte¬ 
nances at all. To keep whole families out of pauper¬ 
ism by preventing the home from being broken up, and 
by nursing the bread-winner back to health. To drag 
the noble art of nursing out of the sink of relief doles. 
To carry out practically the principles of preventing 
disease by stopping its causes or infections which 
spread disease. 

Florence Craven says upon this subject:— 

Whenever a nurse enters, order and cleanliness must 
enter with her. She must reform and re-create, as it 
were, the homes of the sick poor. These unfortunate 
people often lose even the feeling of what it is to be 
clean. The district nurse has, therefore, to show them 
their room clean for once, and to bring about this result 
with her own hands; to sweep and dust, empty and 
wash out all the appalling dirt and foulness; air and 
disinfect, rub the windows, sweep the fireplace, carry 
out and shake the bits of old sacking and carpet and 
lay them down again, fetch fresh water, and fill the 
kettle, wash the patient and the children, and make the 
bed. 

And Miss Nightingale adds again:— 

Every room thus cleaned has always been kept so. 
This is her glory. She found it a pigsty: she left it a 
tidy, airy rt>om. 


How to Help the Poor. 


124 

To teach the poor how to use even the 
small share of goods and talents intrusted 
to them proves to be almost the only true 
help of a worldly sort which it is possible to 
give them. Other gifts, through the long ages 
tried and found wanting, we must have done 
with. Nearly one million of dollars in public 
.and private charities have been given away in 
one year in Boston alone ; and this large sum 
has brought, by way of return, a more fixed 
body of persons who live upon the expecta¬ 
tion of public assistance, and whose degrada¬ 
tion becomes daily deeper. The truth has 
been made clear to us that expenditure of 
money and goods alone does not alleviate 
poverty. 

How, then, we ask, may help be given ? 
To find a fitting answer, we have studied the 
methods of other countries and of holy, self- 
sacrificing men and women who have also 
learned wisdom in their humble devotion to 
their work. And the answer we find is this : 
we have followed the law, and not the spirit of 
the Master; but the law is dead, and he still 
lives among us, the shepherd of his sheep, 
speaking through these hungry and suffering 
children, and praying us not to give the meat 
which perisheth, but the meat which shall 


Visitors and Visited. 


I2 5 


endure. In our comfortable and sheltered 
homes, we forget how near these wretched 
cellars and attics are to the reformatories and 
prison cells. They are the next door, and it 
depends often upon our personal influence 
over the poor to keep that door shut. 

When we are told that certain evils cannot 
be helped, that we may as well let things 
alone, we must remember that experience has 
taught differently. Evils can be helped, and 
to let things alone is to lend ourselves to 
. wrong. It is to be cowardly and to hate just 
where we are taught to love, and to have faith 
that will remove mountains. 

It is impossible to overestimate the value of 
friendly communication with the poor and un¬ 
fortunate. When I see what is accomplished 
sometimes by what in contrast may be called 
so small an expenditure, it seems impossible 
not to spread the good news, and thus bring 
in a very much larger number of workers, 
where the harvest is so abundant. “From 
wealth, little can be hoped; from intercourse, 
everything.” 









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HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND CO. 


A' ONSIDER what you have in the smallest chosen 
^ library . company of the wisest and wittiest men 

that could be picked out of all civil countries, in a thou¬ 
sand years , have set iti best order the results of their 
learning and wisdom . The men themselves were hid and 
inaccessible, solitary, impatient of interruptions, fenced by 
etiquette; but the thought which they did not uticover to 
their bosom frie?id is here written out in transparent 
words to ics, the strangers of another age. — Ralph 
Waldo Emerson. 




Hibrarp 23ooft£ 



OHN ADAMS and Abigail Adams. 

Familiar Letters of John Adams and his wife, Abigail 
Adams, during the Revolution. Crown 8vo, $2.00. 

Louis Agassiz. 

Methods of Study in Natural History. i6mo, $1.50. 
Geological Sketches. i6mo, $1.50. 

Geological Sketches. Second Series. i6mo, $1.50. 

A Journey in Brazil. Illustrated. 8vo, $5.00. 

Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 

Story of a Bad Boy. Illustrated. i6mo, $1.50. 

Marjorie Daw and Other People. i6mo, $1.50. 

Prudence Palfrey. i6mo, $ 1.50. 

The Queen of Sheba. i6mo, $1.50. 

The Stillwater Tragedy. $1.50. 

Cloth of Gold and Other Poems. i6mo, $1.50. 

Flow r er and Thorn. Later poems. i6mo, $1.25. 

Poems. Complete. Illustrated. 8vo, $5.00. 

American Men of Letters. 

Edited by Charles Dudley Warner. 
Washington Irving. By Charles Dudley Warner. i6mo, 
$1.25. 

Noah Webster. By Horace E. Scudder. i6mo, $1.25. 
Henry D. Thoreau. By Frank B. Sanborn. i6mo, $1.25. 
George Ripley. By O. B. Frothingham. i6mo, $1.25. 

J. Fenimore Cooper. By Prof. T. R. Lounsbury. 

(In Preparation.) 

Nathaniel Hawthorne. By James Russell Lowell. 

N. P, Willis. By Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 

William Gilmore Simms. By George W. Cable. 

Margaret Fuller. By T. W. Higginson. 

Others to be announced. 



i 












4 Houghton , Mifflin and Company's 

American Statesmen. 

Edited by John T. Morse, Jr. 

John Quincy Adams. By John T. Morse, Jr. i6mo, $1.25 
Alexander Hamilton. By Henry Cabot Lodge. i6mo, $1.25. 
John C. Calhoun. By Dr. H. von Holst. i6mo, $1 25. 
Andrew Jackson. By Prof. W. G. Sumner. i6mo, $1.25. 
John Randolph. By Henry Adams. i6mo, $1,215. 

James Monroe. By Pres. D. C. Gilman. i6mo, $1.25. 
Thomas Jefferson. By John T. Morse, Jr. i6mo, $1.25. 
Daniel Webster. By Henry Cabot Lodge. i6mo, $1.25. 
{In Preparation.) 

James Madison. By Sidney Howard Gay. 

Albert Gallatin. By John Austin Stevens. 

Patrick Henry. By Prof. Moses Coit Tyler. 

Henry Clay. By Hon. Carl Schurz. 

Lives of others are also expected. 

Hans Christian Andersen. 

Complete Works. 8vo. 

1. The Improvisatore ; or, Life in Italy. 

2. The Two Baronesses. 

3. O. T.; or, Life in Denmark. 

4. Only a Fiddler. 

5. In Spain and Portugal. 

6. A Poet’s Bazaar. 

7. Pictures of Travel. 

8. The Story of my Life. With Portrait. 

9. Wonder Stories told for Children. Ninety-two illus¬ 

trations. 

10. Stories and Tales. Illustrated. 

Cloth, per volume, $1.50 ; price of sets in cloth, $15.00. 

Francis Bacon. 

Works. Collected and edited by Spedding, Ellis, and 
Heath. In fifteen volumes, crown 8vo, cloth, $33.75. 

The same. Popular Edition. In two volumes, crown 8vo, 
with Portraits and Index. Cloth, $5.00. 

Bacon’s Life. 

Life and Times of Bacon. Abridged. By James Spedding. 
2 vols. crown Svo, $5.00. 


Standard and Popular Library Books . $ 


Bjornstjerne Bjornson. 

Norwegian Novels. i6mo, each $1.00. 

Synnove Solbakken. A Happy Boy. 

Arne. The Fisher Maiden. 

The Bridal March. Captain Mansana. 

Magnhild. 

British Poets. 


Riverside Edition. In 68 volumes, crown 8vo, cloth, gilt 


top, per vol. $1.75; the set, 
Akenside and Beattie, 1 vol. 
Ballads, 4 vols. 

Burns, 1 vol. 

Butler, 1 vol. 

Byron, 5 vols. 

Campbell and Falconer, 1 
vol. 

Ohatterton, 1 vol. 

Chaucer, 3 vols. 

Churchill, Parnell, and Tick- 
ell, 2 vols. 

Coleridge and Keats, 2 vols. 
Cowper, 2 vols. 

Dryden, 2 vols. 

Gay, 1 voL 

Goldsmith and Gray, 1 vol. 
Herbert and Vaughan, 1 vol. 
Herrick, 1 vol. 

Hood, 2 vols. 


68 volumes, cloth, $ 100.00. 
Milton and Marvell, 2 vols. 
Montgomery, 2 vols. 

Moore, 3 vols. 

Pope and Collins, 2 vols. 
Prior, 1 vol. 

Scott, 5 vols. 

Shakespeare and Jonson, I 
vol. 

Shelley, 2 vols. 

Skelton and Donne, 2 vols. 
Southey, 5 vols. 

Spenser, 3 vols. 

Swift, 2 vols. 

Thomson, 1 vol. 

Watts and White, 1 vol. 
Wordsworth, 3 vols. 

Wyatt and Surrey, 1 vol. 
Young, 1 vol. 


John Brown, M. D. 

Spare Hours. 3 vols. i6mo, each $1.50. 

Robert Browning. 

Poems and Dramas, etc. 14 vols. $19.50. 

Complete Works. New Edition. 7 vols. i2mo, $12.00. 


Wm. C. Bryant. 

Translation of Homer. The Iliad. 2 vols. royal 8vo, $9.00. 

Crown 8vo, $4.50. 1 vol. i2mo, $3.00. 

The Odyssey. 2 vols. royal 8vo, $9.00. Crown 8vo, $4.5a 
I vol. i2mo, $3.00. 


6 


Houghton , Mifflin and Company's 

John Burroughs. 

Wake-Robin. Illustrated. i6mo, $1.50. 

Winter Sunshine. i6mo, $1.50. 

Birds and Poets. i6mo, $1.50. 

Locusts and Wild Honey. i6mo, $1.50. 

Pepacton, and Other Sketches. i6mo, $1.50. 

Thomas Carlyle. 

Essays. With Portrait and Index. Four volumes, crown 
8vo, $7.50. Popular Edition. Two volumes, $3.50. 

Alice and Phoebe Cary. 

Poems. Household Editmi. i2mo, $2.00. 

Library Edition. Portraits and 24 illustrations. 8vo, $4.00. 
Poetical Works, including Memorial by Mary Clemmer. 
1 vol. 8vo, $3.50. Full gilt, #4.00. 

L. Maria Child. 

Looking toward Sunset. 4to, $2.50. 

Letters. With Biography by Whittier. i6mo, $1.50. 

James Freeman Clarke. 

Ten Great Religions. 8vo, $3.00. 

Ten Great Religions. Part II. [In Press.) 

Common Sense in Religion. i2mo, $2.00. 

Memorial and Biographical Sketches. i2mo, $2.00. 

J. Fenimore Cooper. 

Works. Household Edition. Illustrated. 32 vols. i6mo. 

Cloth, per volume, $1.00 ; the set, $32.00. 

Globe Edition. Illust’d. 16 vols. $20.00. (Sold only in sets.) 
Sea Tales. Illustrated. 10 vols. i6mo, $10.00. 

Leather Stocking Tales. Household Edition. Illustrated- 
5 vols. $5.00. Riverside Edition. 5 vols. $11.25. 

Richard H. Dana. 

To Cuba and Back. i6mo, $1.25. 

Two Years Before the Mast. i6mo, $1.50. 

Thomas De Quincey. 

Works. Riverside Edition. In 12 vols. crown 8vo. Per vol¬ 
ume, cloth, $1.50; the set, $18.00. 

Globe Edition. Six vols. i2mo, $10.00. (Sold only in sets.) 


Standard and Popular Library Books. 7 
Madame De Stael. 

Germany. 1 vol. crown 8vo, $2.50. 

Charles Dickens. 

Works. Illustrated Library Edition. In 29 volumes, crown 
8vo. Cloth, each, $1.50 ; the set, $43.50. 

Globe Edition. In 15V0IS. i2mo. Cloth, per volume, $1.25. 

J. Lewis Diman. 

The Theistic Argument as Affected by Recent Theories. 

8vo, $2.00. t 

Orations and Essays. 8vo, $2.50. 

F. S. Drake. 

Dictionary of American Biography. 1 vol. 8vo, cloth, $6.00. 

Charles L. Eastlake. 

Hints on Household Taste. Illustrated. i2mo, $3.00. 
Notes on the Louvre and Brera Galleries. Sm. 4to, $2.00. 

George Eliot. 

The Spanish Gypsy. i6mo, $1.50. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

Works. 10 vols. i6mo, $1.50 each ; the set, $15.00. 

Fireside Edition. 5 vols. l6mo, $10.00. (Sold only in sets.) 
“Little Classic ” Edition. 9 vols. Cloth, each, $1.50. 

Prose Works. Complete. 3 vols. i2mo, $7.50. 

Parnassus. Household Ed. i2mo, $2.00. Library Ed., $4.00. 

Fdnelon. 

Adventures of Telemachus. Crown 8vo, $2.25. 

James T. Fields. 

Yesterdays with Authors. i2mo, $2.00. 8vo, $3.00. 
Underbrush. $1.25. 

Ballads and other Verses. i6mo, $1.00. 

The Family Library of British Poetry, from Chaucer to the 
Present Time (1350-1878). Royal 8vo. 1,028 pages, with 
12 fine steel portraits, $5.00. 

Memoirs and Correspondence. 1 vol. 8vo, gilt top, $2.00. 


8 Houghton, Mifflin and Company's 
John Fiske. 

Myths and Mythmakers. i2mo, $2.00. 

Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy. 2 vols. 8vo, $6.00. 

The Unseen World, and other Essays. i2mo, $2.00. 

Goethe. 

Faust. Metrical Translation. By Rev. C. T. Brooks 
i6mo, $1.25. 

Faust. Translated into English Verse. By Bayard Taylor. 

2 vols. royal 8vo, $9.00; cr. 8vo, $4.50; 1 vol. i2mo, $3.00. 
Correspondence with a Child. Portrait of Bettina Brentano. 
i2mo, $1.50. 

Wilhelm Meister. Translated by Thomas Carlyle. Por¬ 
trait of Goethe. 2 vols. i2mo, $3.00. 

Bret Harte. 

Works. New complete edition. 5 vols. i2mo, each $2.00. 
Poems. Household Edition. i2mo, $2.00. 

Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

Works. “ Little Classic ” Edition. Illustrated. 24 vols. 

i8mo, each $1.25 ; the set $30.00. 

Illustrated Library Edition. 13 vols. i2mo, per vol. $2.00. 
Fireside Edition. Illustrated. 13 vols. i6mo, the set, $21.00. 
New Globe Edition. 6 vols. i6mo, illustrated, the set, $10.00. 
New Riverside Edition. Introductions by G. P. Lathrop 
Original etching in each vol. 12 vols. cr. 8vo, per vol. $2.00. 

George S. Hillard. 

Six Months in Italy. i2mo, $2.00. 

Oliver Wendell Holmes. 

Poems. Household Edition. i2mo, $2.00. 

Illustrated Library Edition. Illustrated, full gilt, 8vo, $4.00. 
Handy Volume Edition. 2 vols. i8mo, gilt top, $2.50. 

The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. i2mo, $2.00. 

The Professor at the Breakfast-Table. i2mo, $2.00. 

The Poet at the Breakfast-Table. i2mo, $2.00. 

Elsie Venner. i2mo, $2.00. 

The Guardian Angel. i2mo, $2.00. 

Soundings from the Atlantic. 161110, $1.75. 

John Lothrop Motley. A Memoir. i6mo, $1.50. 




Standard and Popular Library Books . 9 

W. D. Howells. 

Venetian Life. i2mo, $1.50. Italian Journevs. $1.50. 
Their Wedding Journey. Illus. i2mo, $i.,£o; i8mo, $1.25. 
Suburban Sketches. Illustrated. i2mo, $1.50. 

A Chance Acquaintance. Illus. i2mo, $1.50 ; i8mo, $1.25. 
A Foregone Conclusion. i2mo, $1.50. 

The Lady of the Aroostook. i2mo, $1.50. 

The Undiscovered Country. $1.50. Poems. $1.25. 

Out of the Question. A Comedy. i8mo, $1.25. 

A Counterfeit Presentment. i8mo, $1.25. 

Choice Autobiography. Edited by W. D. Howells. i8mo, 
per vol. $1.25. 

I., II. Memoirs of Frederica Sophia Wilhelmina, Margra- 
vine of Baireuth. 

III. Lord Herbert of Cherbury, and Thomas Ellwood. 

IV. Vittorio Alfieri. V. Carlo Goldoni. 

VI. Edward Gibbon. VII., VIII. Frangois Marmontel. 

Thomas Hughes. 

Tom Brown’s School-Days at Rugby. $1.00. 

Tom Brown at Oxford. i6mo, $1.25. 

The Manliness of Christ. i6mo, gilt top, $1.00. 

Henry James, Jr. 

Passionate Pilgrim and other Tales. $ 2.00. 

Transatlantic Sketches. i2mo, $2.00. 

Roderick Hudson. i2mo, $2.00. 

The American. i2mo, $2.00. 

Watch and Ward. i8mo, $1.25. 

The Europeans. i2mo, $ 1.50. 

Confidence. i2mo, $1.50. 

The Portrait of a Lady. $ 2.00. 

Mrs. Anna Jameson. 

Writings upon Art subjects. 10 vols. i8mo, each $1.50, 

Sarah O. Jewett. 

Deephaven. i8mo, $1.25. 

Old Friends and New. i8mo, $1.25. 

Country By-Ways. i8mo, $1.25. 

Play-Days. Stories for Children. Sq. i6mo, $1.50. 



io 


Houghton f Mifflin and Company's 
Rossiter Johnson. 

Little Classics. Eighteen handy volumes containing the 
choicest §tories, Sketches, and short Poems in English 
literature. Each in one vol. i8mo, $1.00; the set, $18.00 
In 9 vols. square i6mo, $13.50. (So/d in sets only.) 

Samuel Johnson. 

Oriental Religions : India, 8vo, $5.00. China, 8vo, $5.00. 
Lectures, Essays, and Sermons. i2mo, $1.75. 

T. Starr King. 

Christianity and Humanity. With Portrait. i2mo, $2.00. 
Substance and Show. i2mo, $2.00. 

Lucy Larcom. 

Poems. i6mo, $1.25. An Idyl of Work. i6mo, $1.25, 
Wild Roses of Cape Ann and other Poems. i6mo, $1.25. 
Breathings of the Better Life. i8mo, $1.25. 

G. P. Lathrop. 

A Study of Hawthorne. i8mo, $1.25. 

An Echo of Passion. i6mo, $1.25. 

G. H. Lewes. 

The Story of Goethe’s Life. Portrait. i2mo, $1.50. 
Problems of Life and Mind. 5 vols. $14.00. 

H. W. Longfellow. 

Poems. Cambridge Edition complete. Portrait. 4 vols. 

cr. 8vo, $9.00. 2 vols. $7.00. 

Octavo Edition. Portrait and 300 illustrations. $8.00. 
Household Edition. Portrait. i2mo, $2.00. 

Red-Line Edition. 12 illustrations and Portrait. $2.50. 
Diamond Edition. $1.00. 

Library Edition. Portrait and 32 illustrations. 8vo, $4.00. 
Prose Works. Cambridge Edition. 2 vols. cr. 8vo, $4.50. 
Hyperion. A Romance. i6mo, $1.50. 

Outre-Mer. i6mo, $1.50. Kavanagh. i6mo, $1.50. 

Christus. Household Edition , $2.00 ; Diaitiond Edition , $1.00. 
Translation of the Divina Commedia of Dante. 3 vols. 

royal 8vo, $13.50; cr. 8vo, $6.00; 1 vol. cr. 8vo, $3.00. . 
Poets and Poetry of Europe. Royal 8vo, $5.00. 

In the Harbor. Steel Portrait. i6mo, gilt top, $1.00. 



Standard and Popular Library Books, u 
James Russell Lowell. 

Poems. Red-Line Ed. 16 illustrations and Portrait. $2.50 
Household Edilion. Portrait.* i2mo, 52.00. 

Library Edition. Portrait and 32 illustrations. 8vo, 54.00. 
Diamond Edition. $1.00. 

Fireside Travels. i6mo, $1.50. 

Among my Books. 1st and 2nd Series. i2mo, 52.00 each. 
My Study Windows. i2mo, 52.00. 

T. B. Macaulay. 

England New Riverside Edition. 4 vols., cloth, 55 - 00 * 
Essays. Portrait. New Riverside Edition. 3 vols., 53 - 75 * 
Speeches and Poems. New Riverside Ed. I vol., 5 1• 2 5 - 

Harriet Martineau. 

Autobiography. Portraits and illus. 2 vols. 8vo, 56 . 00 . 
Household Education. i8mo, 5 i* 2 5 * 

Owen Meredith. 

Poems. Household Edition. Illustrated. i2mo, 52.00. 
Library Edition. Portrait and 32 illustrations. 8vo, 54*00. 
Shawm ut Edition. $ 1. 50. 

Lucile. Red-Line Edition. 8 illustrations. $2.50. 
Diamond Edition. 8 illustrations, 5 uoo. 

Michael de Montaigne. 

Complete Works. Portrait. 4 vols. crown 8vo, 57 * 50 * 

Rev. T. Mozley. 

Reminiscences, chiefly of Oriel College and the Oxford 
Movement. 2 vols. crown 8vo, 53 *°o. 

E. Mulford. 

The Nation. 8vo, 52.50. 

The Republic of God. 8vo, $2.00. 

T. T. Munger. 

On the Threshold. i6mo, gilt top, $1.00. 

Freedom of Faith. (Zn Press.) 

J. A. W. Neander, 

History of the Christian Religion and Church, with Index 
volume, 6 vols. 8vo, $20.00; Index alone, $S-oo. 


12 Houghton, Mifflin and Company's 
C. E. Norton. 

Notes of Travel and Study in Italy. i6mo, $1.25. 
Translation of Dante’s New Life. Royal 8vo, $3.00. 

Francis W. Palfrey. 

Memoir of William Francis Bartlett. i6mo, 

James Parton. 

Life of Benjamin Franklin. 2 vols. 8vo, $4.00. 

Life of Thomas Jefferson. 8vo, $2.00. 

Life of Aaron Burr. 2 vols. 8vo, $4 00. 

Life of Andrew Jackson. 3 vols. 8vo, $6.00. 

Life of Horace Greeley. 8vo, $2.50. 

General Butler in New Orleans. 8vo, $2.50. 

Humorous Poetry of the English Language. 8vo, $2.00. 
Famous Americans of Recent Times. 8vo, $2.00. 

Life of Voltaire. 2 vols. 8vo, $ 6.00. 

The French Parnassus. i2mo, $2.00; crown 8vo, $3.50. 

Blaise Pascal. 

Thoughts, Letters, and Opuscules. Crown 8vo, $2.25. 
Provincial Letters. Crown 8vo, $2.2$. 

E. S. Phelps. 

The Gates Ajar. i6mo, $1.50. 

Men, Women, and Ghosts. i6mo, $1.50. 

Hedged In. i6mo, $1.50. 

The Silent Partner. i6mo, $1.50. 

The Story of Avis. i6mo, $1.50. 

Sealed Orders, and other Stories. i6mo, $1.50. 

Friends : A Duet. i6mo, $1.25. 

Dr. Zay. i6mo. $1.25. 

Poetic Studies. Square i6mo, $1.50. 

Adelaide A. Procter. 

Poems. Diamond Edition. $1.00. 

Red-Line Edition. Portrait and 16 illustrations. $2.50, 
Favorite Edition. Illustrated. i6mo, $1.50. 

T^enry Crabb Robinson. 

Diary. Crown 8vo, #2.50. 


Standard and Popular Library Books . 13 

A. P. Russell. 

Library Notes. i2mo, $2.00. 

John G. Saxe. 

Works. Portrait. i6mo, $2.25. 

Poems. Red-Line Edition. Illustrated. $2.50. 

Diamond Edition. i8mo, $r.oo. 

Household Edition. i2mo, $2.00. 

Sir Walter Scott. 

Waverley Novels. Illustrated Library Edition. In 25 vols. 

cr. 8vo, each $1.00; the set, $25.00. 

Globe Edition. 13 vols. 100 illustrations, $16.25. 

Tales of a Grandfather. Library Edition. 3 vols. $4.50. 
Poems. Red-Line Edition. Illustrated. $2.50. 

Diamond Edition. i8mo, $1.00. 

Horace E. Scudder. 

The Bodley Books. 6 vols. Each $1.50. 

The Dwellers in Five-Sisters’ Court. i6mo, $1.25. 

Stories and Romances. $1.25. 

Dream Children. Illustrated. i6mo, $1.00. 

Seven Little People. Illustrated. i6mo, $1.00. 

Stories from my Attic. Illustrated. i6mo, $1.00. 

The Children’s Book. 4to, 450 pages, $3.50. 

Boston Town. Illustrated. i2mo, $1.50. 

J. C. Shairp. 

Culture and Religion. i6mo, $.125. 

Poetic Interpretation of Nature. i6mo, $1.25. 

Studies in Poetry and Philbsophy. i6mo, $1.50. 

Aspects of Poetry. i6mo, $1.50. 

Dr. William Smith. 

Bible Dictionary. A me, ican Edition. In four vols. 8va 
the set, $20.00. 

E. C. Stedman. 

Poems. Farringford Edition. Portrait. i6mo, $2.00. 
Victorian Poets. i2mo, $2 00. 

Hawthorne, and other Poems. i6mo, $1.25. 

Edgar Allan Poe. An Essay. Vellum, i8mo, $1.00. 


T 4 Houghton, Mifflin and Company's 


Harriet Beecher Stowe. 


Agnes of Sorrento. i2mo, $1.50. 

The Pearl of Orr’s Island. i2mo, $1.50. 

Uncle Toni’s Cabin. Popular Edition. i2mo, $2.00. 

The Minister’s Wooing. i2mo, $1.50. 

The May-flower, and other Sketches. i2mo, $1.50. 

Nina Gordon. i2mo, $1.50. 

Oldtown Folks. i2mo, #1.50. 

Sam Lawson’s Fireside Stories. Illustrated. $1.50. 

Uncle Tom’s Cabin. 100 Illustrations. 121110, full gilt, $3.50. 

Bayard Taylor. 

Poetical Works. Household Edition. i2mo, $2.00. 
Dramatic Works. Crown 8vo, $2.25. 

The Echo Club, and other Literary Diversions. $1.25. 

Alfred Tennyson. 


Poems. Household Ed. Portrait and 60 illustrations. $2.00. 
Illustrated Crown Edition. 48 illustrations. 2 vols. $5.00. 
Library Edition. Portrait and 60 illustrations. $4.00. 

Red-Line Edition Portrait and 16 illustrations. $2.50. 
Diamond Edition. $100. 

Shawmut Edition. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50. 

Idylls of the King. Complete. Illustrated. $1.50. 

Celia Thaxter. 


Among the Isles of Shoals. $1.25. 

Poems. $1.50. Drift-Weed. Poems. $1.50. 

Henry D. Thoreau. 

Walden. i2mo, $1.50. 

A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers. $1,501 
Excursions in Field and Forest. i2mo, $1.50. 

The Maine Woods. i2mo, $1.50. 

Cape Cod. i2mo, $1.50. 

Letters to various Persons. i2mo, $150. 

A Yankee in Canada. i2mo, $1.50. 

Early Spring in Massachusetts. i2mo, $1.50. 

George Ticknor. 

History of Spanish Literature. 3 vols. 8vo, $10.00. 

Life, Letters, and Journals. Portraits. 2 vols. 8 vo, $ 6 . 00 . 
Cheaper edition. 2 vols. i2mo, $4 00. 




Standard and Popular Library Books . 15 

J. T. Trowbridge. 

A Home Idyl. $1.25. The Vagabonds. *1.25 

The Emigrant’s Story. i6mo, $1.25. 

« Voltaire. 

History of Charles XII. Crown 8vo, #2.25. 

Lew Wallace. 

The Fair God. i2mo, $1.50. 

George E. Waring, Jr. 

Whip and Spur. $1.25. A Farmer’s Vacation. $3.00. 
Village Improvements. Illustrated. 75 cents. 

The Bride of the Rhine. Illustrated. $1.50. 

Charles Dudley Warner. 

My Summer in a Garden. i6mo, $i.co. Illustrated. $1.50. 
Saunterings. i8mo, $1.25. 

Back-Log Studies. Illustrated. $1.50. 

Baddeck, and that Sort of Thing, jjii.oa 
My Winter on the Nile. i2mo, $2.00. 

In the Levant. i2mo, $2.00. 

Being a Boy. Illustrated. $1.50. 

In the Wilderness. 75 cents. 

William A. Wheeler. 

Dictionary of the Noted Names of Fiction. $2.00. 

Edwin P. Whipple. 

Works. Critical Essays. 6 vols., $9.00. 

Richard Grant White. 

Every-Day English. i2mo, $ 2.00. 

Words and their Uses. i2mo, $ 2.00. 

England Without and Within. i2mo, $ 2.00. 

Shakespeare’s Complete Works. 3 vols. cr.8vo< (In Press.) 

Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney. 

Faith Gartney’s Girlhood. i2mo, #1.50. 

Hitherto. i2mo, #1.50. 

Patience Strong’s Outings. i2mo, $1.50. 

The Gayworthys. i2mo, $1.50. 





f6 Houghton, Mifflin and Co.'s Catalogue . 

Leslie Goldthwaite. Illustrated. i2mo, $1.50. 

We Girls. Illustrated. i2mo, $1.50. 

Real Folks. Illustrated. 121110, $1.50. 

The Other Girls. Illustrated. 121110, $1.50. 

Sights and Insights. 2 vols. 121110, $3.00. 

Odd or Even. i2mo, $1.50. 

Boys at Chequasset. i2mo, $1.50. 

Mother Goose for Grown Folks. i2mo, $1.50. 
Pansies. Square i6mo, $1.50. 

Just How. i6mo, $1.00. 


John G. Whittier. 


Poems. Household Edition. Portrait. $2.00. 

Cambridge Edition. Portrait. 3 vols. crown 8vo, $6.75. 
Red-Line Edition. Portrait. 12 illustrations. $2.50. 
Diamond Edition. i8mo, $1.00. 

Library Edition. Portrait. 32 illustrations. 8vo, $4.00. 
Prose Works. Cambridge Edition. 2 vols. $4.50. 

John Woolman’s Journal. Introduction by Whittier. $1.50. 
Child Life in Poetry. Selected by Whittier. Illustrated. 

$2.25. Child Life in Prose. $2.25. 

Songs of Three Centuries. Selected by J. G. Whittier. 
Household Edition. i2mo, $2.00. Illustrated Library 
Edition. 32 illustrations. $4.00. 

Justin Winsor. 

Reader’s Handbook of the American Revolution. l6mo, 

$1-25. _ 

A catalogue containing portraits of many of the above 
authors, with a description of their works, will be sent 
free, on application, to any address . 


HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY, Boston, Mass 




£ 10 

























































































































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